


Super Rich Kids

by kosherbooty



Series: Super Rich Kids [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: "gang" activity, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Bully!AU, Bullying, Drug Addiction, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, High School, M/M, Mental Institutions, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Smoking, Wealth, corrupt school system, slight psychological trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-02-23 10:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 152,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2544305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosherbooty/pseuds/kosherbooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Garrison Academy is a boarding school specializing in “the discipline of future leaders”.  That was just fancy talk for “If you have a lot of money, we’ll deal with your spoiled brats for you instead of going through the embarrassment of sticking them in juvenile detention."<br/>16 year old Marco Bodt finds himself in the midst of the toughest alternative school without a single memory of what he did to get there. Luckily for him, he meets  Jean Kirschstein, and the two decide to stick together to survive the hierarchy of brutal gang-minded cliques who attend the school with them, as well as the corrupted school administration who run it.</p><p>This fic is based off of a video game! "Bully", or "Canis Cadem Edit". I thought it would be a fun AU and decided to run with it, so please enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Is Your School

**Author's Note:**

> It's sink or swim when Marco arrives at The Garrison, and he's about to meet his new buddy.

Marco

 

Are you ever at a point in your life where you know things could be a lot worse, but it feels like they’re at their worst now? You start to wonder if this was just meant to happen, or if you could have done something to prevent it. Well, in my case, maybe I shouldn’t always be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I still don’t deserve this.

“Oh, do cheer up, son. This is going to be good for you, I can feel it.”

I folded my arms, slumping in the backseat of my father's new Lexus. We’d been driving for about an hour, and every minute that passed by, my anxieties about where I was going only grew worse. My mother turned to look at me from the passenger seat with a sympathetic look on her face. I sighed and looked away, finally giving up on trying to convince everyone that I don’t deserve this.

I’m Marco Bodt, I’m sixteen years old, and I’m going to prison.

Alright, it isn’t _exactly_ a prison, but it’s pretty close. The Garrison Academy is a boarding school specializing in “the discipline of future leaders”. That was just fancy talk for “If you have a lot of money, we’ll deal with your spoiled brats for you instead of going through the embarrassment of sticking them in juvenile detention.” That was the thing about it, though. I wasn’t a spoiled brat. I wasn’t born with money. I’m not even a bad kid...but these were the cards I was dealt. I would continue high school here, and if I’m lucky enough I’d probably die here before graduating.

My parents had finally pulled up to the curb in front of those tall, iron gates.  A short man wearing a cravat and a scowl approached as I got my belongings from the trunk. He rested his eyes on me, studying me, possibly wondering what I did to land myself in a place like this.

“You must be Marco Bodt. Welcome to the Garrison Academy. We’ve been expecting you.” I thought my mom would perhaps come with me to meet my administrators, help me settle in, or at least get out of the car, but she just settled into her seat and offered me a smile.

“Have fun, honey. We’ll see you at Christmas!”

“Thanks…” I narrowed my eyes at her as she rolled her window back up.

Once they drove off, the man turned and headed back onto campus. I glanced around, wondering if he was going help me with my bags or not.

“Are you coming, Bodt? Mr. Smith doesn’t have all day, and neither do I.” he called, his tone growing considerably rougher now that my parents were gone. I grabbed my suitcase, backpack, and other bag and hustled to keep up with him. As I dragged my heavy suitcase across the rough cobblestone I already knew this was about to be the worst years of my life.

The man came to a stop, prompting me to do so as well, and extended his hand to his left. “Boys dorm. Put your stuff away. I won't have you tracking dirt in the building.”

I tried to follow his hand before he put it back down. Luckily, we were in the middle of a pathway. On one end was a pathway leading to a large, run down building known as the Boy’s Dorm. On the opposite end, a similar sized building was the Girl’s Dorm.

“You will put your things down, leave the boys dorm, and come directly to the main building.” he pointed straight ahead at the large school. “When you get to the entrance, you will come up the stairs to the Principal’s office, Mr. Smith’s office. You got that?” I blinked a couple times, then nodded.

The grumpy short man folded his arms and adjusted his cravat. “I hope you do. If you aren't in the office in fifteen minutes, I will send a TA to escort you there.” With that, he left, making his way to the main building.  As this little man strolled through campus, I almost couldn't believe how the students were going out of their way to stay out of his. They scrambled to move out of his line of sight, walked the opposite direction, and seemed to simmer down their chatter as he got closer. Whoever this man was, I made a mental note to see as less of him as possible. That starts with not being late to see my principal.

I hauled my things against the opposing cobblestone and toward the dormitory. There was a crowd of kids gathered around the dorm, blocking the stairs. There were about five or six of them, all looking like your average degenerate: Dead eyes, twisted smiles, disheveled clothes and various battle scars. Before I could even think up a way to get around them, they spotted me.

“Your mom dress you this morning?” one of them snickered, elbowing his friend.

“What?” I looked down at my clothes, then back at him with furrowed eyebrows. He immediately took offense to that.

“Oh, what? You think you’re some kinda fashion model or somethin’, fuckface!?”

“Whoa, what is your damage?” I held my hands up and stepped back.

“My _damage_!? You sayin’ somethin’s wrong with me, new kid!?” he got closer, shoving me.  I stumbled over my suitcase and fell to the ground. His other two friends, a dark-skinned boy with a weird faux-hawk and a blonde kid with massive sideburns became hostile.

“Can you believe this new kid, Thomas?” a dark-skinned one scoffed. “I don’t think he gets how things work around here.”

“We’ll just have to teach him. Hold ‘im down, Daz.” a bigger, blonde boy came forward. The boy who originally insulted me stepped over me and grabbed my collar. That went from zero to sixty so fast. I couldn’t believe that I was already about to die within ten minutes of being here.

Suddenly, the sound of a flying projectile whipped through the air and hit the guy above me right in the face. He flew off of me with a loud wail, crashing to the ground and gripping his face. A rubber ball bounced off of him and rolled right beside me.

“What the hell was that!?” the dark-skinned bully started to panic above his incapacitated friend.

“Damn it, it’s that fucking loser, Kirschstein!” the one known as Thomas grunted.  “Franz, get ‘im!”

I sat up, frantically looking around for whomever they were talking about. I heard footsteps coming quick, but was too worried about whether or not this Daz kid was dead, or if I was next. Franz was apparently still distracted with Daz to have heard what Thomas was saying.

“Wait, what?”

**_BLAM_ **

A dingy pair of converse slammed into Franz’s head. I shook my head a little, trying to process whether or not this kid was really just dropkicked right in front of my eyes. My jaw dropped as I laid eyes on who might have been my savior or enemy: A sandy blonde boy with an undercut, gauges in his ears and a slingshot in hand. He stood atleast 5’7, with a dark red school sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and school slacks. He looked over at me, his hazel eyes shot right through me.

“You okay?”

“I uh…” I squeaked. He and I apparently forgotten about Thomas for a split second.

“Fucking hell! Kirschstein, you son of a bitch!” He charged into the boy, tackling him hard onto the ground. The wind was knocked right out of him. Thomas was bigger and obviously stronger than the other blonde, and although I was about to wet myself, this kid was my only ally and I had to help him. I scrambled to my feet and just grabbed what I could in an attempt to get this bully off of him.

"AARGH!" With that anguished scream, I heard a ripping sound that caused my eyes to pop right open. I had both hands firmly gripped on this guy's baby blue tighty-whities, unwittingly giving him the wedgie of his life.

"Holy shit. That kid wedgied Thomas..!" Someone in the distance shouted.

No, not me. I didn't do that! Not this kid!

But I _did_. I let go of his labeled underwear and stepped back as he fell to the ground, writhing in a pain I knew all too well from childhood. My undercut hero crawled from underneath the bully and stood up, holding his side and looking at me with what I would describe as awe..? Piqued interest? All I knew was that I had his attention now.

"That was...pretty quick thinking." He tilted his head at me.

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something but I hadn't thought of anything other than "Uh..."

He glanced away from me, and his expression immediately became anxious. He picked up his slingshot and warned me, "TAs! Run!"

My knight and shining armor sprinted off to who-knows-where, Thomas scrambled to his feet, scurrying away and holding his backside. I didn't understand at all. I soon did however, when a man--also in a cravat--appeared on the scene as soon as the boys disappeared.

"Well well, as soon as you arrive on campus, you're itching to start trouble, is that it?"

"N-No! They're the ones who started it! I just--!" I tried to defend myself, but all he did was grab me by the scruff of my shirt, dragging me toward the main building.

“They who? All I see is a crazy freckled kid who threw his crap all over the yard!” he snorted.  Great. This must be the TA the short grumpy cravat guy was warning me about.

"Hey what about my stuff?! You can't just manhandle me like this!" I tried to struggle out of his grip.

"Quite the contrary, little _rich boy_ , my job is to get you to follow instructions by almost any means necessary." He yanked me by the scruff, causing my head to spin. "I just can't hit ya, which is a real shame seeing as some of you little shits deserve it." I scowled, thinking that although I won’t be bothered by anymore bullies with this ‘TA’ dragging me across campus, it was still pretty damn embarrassing.

Once we entered the building, I honestly didn’t know what to expect once I saw the inside. Fluorescent lights, a large Garrison logo at our feet, not to mention the countless flags draping over the staircases and corridor entrances.

“Hurry up, kid.” I was yanked again. We got up the stairs to what looked like the administrative corridor. I scratched my head, thinking it was a little dumb to have administration all on one corridor. Right next to the extensive trophy collection was the office I was meant to enter half an hour ago. Mini-cravat was right there waiting with arms crossed and an even bigger scowl than before.

“Didn’t I warn you, brat?”

“Y-Yeah, but I didn’t--” I tried to plead my case, but he wasn’t having it.

“Look If this is how you wanna start off your school year, I don’t give a crap.” he told me. He looked up at the TA who brought me here, apparently used to how creepily similar he looked to him. “Good job, Auruo. Be on your way.”

“Sir.” he nodded, heading out into the trafficked hallways.

“Are you gonna get distracted on your way to Mr. Smith’s office just straight ahead?” he tilted his head sarcastically.

“Now, now, Levi, don’t scare the boy too much.” a door opened, revealing another voice. I peered behind mini-cravat, seeing a tall, bulky man with piercing blue eyes and a blonde undercut stand outside his office door, staring right at me. “You must be from the Bodt family. This way.”

I glanced back at the shorter man, apprehensively heading to where I was called. I already knew who this guy was. His face was plastered all over the school website and pamphlets. Erwin Smith, the Principal of the Garrison Academy. He made my mother feel completely at ease with sending me to this hellhole. I made a mental note to stay as far away from him, too...not because I was scared of him, but just because I instantly hated him and his douchey eyebrows.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mister Bodt. I hear you’ve got quite the temper on you.” he began, sitting on the edge of his desk. I just shook my head, knowing he was referencing what got me in here in the first place. “Deny it all you like, but you were caught, you retaliated _very_ violently, and you could’ve landed yourself in a predicament even your parents wouldn’t be able to save you from.”

I wanted to keep arguing that I didn’t do it, but this man was probably used to dealing with guilty kids crying innocent. No one else in the world believed me, anyway.

“Now, I hope you understand that the Garrison is your last hope. If you screw up here, you’ll be put in juvenile detention. You will ruin your chances of honoring your esteemed family, and we don’t want that.” he began again. “Don’t worry, though, the Garrison has built a reputation for fixing troubled boys like you.”

“By bullying them?” my eyebrows arched.

“Excuse me?” he heard me loud and clear, but dared me so say that again. So I did.

“I mean...I’m not sure what reputation you’re talking about, sir. I was attacked for no reason within ten minutes of _being_ here. The only thing you’re fixing about these kids is how to be more careful in breaking the rules.” I said. “Why’s this place so notable, anyway, when the alumni are nothing but arms dealers, white collar criminals and--if they’re really successful--crooked corporate lawyers?”

“You won’t amount to any of that if you keep running your mouth.” Mini-cravat chimed in. Mr. Smith just smirked, folding his hands over his face. I averted my eyes, and just kept quiet. Speaking my mind won’t do me any justice in a place like this, I had to remember that.

“I do hope you’ll change your mind once you become comfortable here.” Mr. Smith nodded. “You’ve unfortunately just missed dinner, but hopefully you won’t be thinking of how hungry you are with all the unpacking and class preparations you’ve got to do.”

 _‘Wow, thanks...’_ I sneered to myself. I caught the hint that it was time for me to leave, and stood up from my chair.

“I expect nothing short of greatness from you, Mister Bodt. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to talk to Mr. Ackerman or myself.” he said as I left his office.

“Hey, brat,” Mini-cravat called. I turned my head, only to be greeted with a plastic package nearly hitting me in the face. “Whoops. Think fast next time.”

It was a brand new school uniform. A button down shirt, a tie, a teal sweater vest, and school slacks. I expected more of a variety here, since I saw them on other students, but this was apparently a starter pack and I had to buy my own. I looked up at him, and he just stood there with folded arms, wondering why I haven’t left yet.

“But I...I didn’t tell you my measurements or…” I began to say.

“Please.” he rolled his eyes. “If those don’t fit you, I’ll personally excuse you from an entire week of class.”

Oh, okay. So all those weird stares earlier today was just him sizing me up. I didn’t fight him anymore on it and left the office. As soon as I stepped into the hallways, I felt like I’d just wandered into a jungle; I’m not talking about your harmless public school jungle with the occasional snake bite or food poisoning, I'm talking hardcore amazon rainforest you're-guaranteed-to-get-mauled-here type of jungle. Bigger kids stuffing smaller kids into their lockers and trash cans, TAs chasing kids across hallways and inconveniencing others by knocking them down along the way; honestly has any parent seen what goes on here? Has anyone questioned the legality of this establishment?

Thankfully, I made it back to the boys dorm unscathed, and found my things scattered all over the entrance.

"God..." I drew out a long sigh.

"He's nowhere near this place." A voice chuckled. On guard, I looked up, and was surprised to see the boy who helped me earlier.

"It's you..."

He just smiled a little and bent down to help me pick up my things.  "You're obviously new."

"And you're the only kid here who doesn't wanna beat me up." I eyed him gathering up my clothes.

He flashed that smile of his and shook his head. "Welp, I was in your shoes not too long ago. New target and no friends. But unlike you, I had prior experience in breaking the occasional jaw and was able to hold my own until now."

"That's good for you." I said, shoving more stuff into my suitcase.

"It could be good for you, too, if we became friends." He inched closer to me, holding out my Princess Bubblegum boxers.  Immediately embarrassed, I lunged at him to get them back. He yanked them out of my reach and stared right into my eyes.

"You agree, right?" He said. "It's sink or swim, kid. So why not have a buddy?"

"What is your problem? Does every criminal here force their friendships onto people?" I hissed, just causing the other boy to laugh. "Why me?"

"Ouch. _Criminal_?" He laughed.  "Well I mean, you did save me from being beaten to a pulp back there, I guess the best way to make it up to you is to help you out here a bit. So what d'you say?"

I didn't have time to think about this or argue with him, not when my pink PB boxers are in plain view and more boys are headed back to the dorm from dinner. "Fine, whatever, you're right."

He finally let me have my underwear back and picked up my suitcase with a smile. "Cool. What's your name?"

"Marco. Marco Bodt..." I answered. He opened the building doors for me as I hauled some of my things inside.

"Glad to meet you, Marco. Jean Kirschstein. This is your life now, so you'd better look for ways to make the best of it."


	2. The Who's Who

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean shows Marco around and points out who everyone is and what they're in for...save for himself, of course.

Jean

 

I think I stopped being pissed off about going back to school when I realized that being at home wasn’t very different from being there.  Sure, I didn’t have to wear tacky uniforms at home, but atleast when I was here, I didn’t have to watch my every move and how it would affect the Kirschstein reputation.  I didn’t have to worry about paparazzi in my face or points and stares whenever I enter or exit a public space.  I was just another bad seed here.  The Garrison is filled with the failed offspring of the rich and famous, that’s their bread and butter.

My older brother and I were shoved in here when I was thirteen; three years later, I’m starting the eleventh grade, and all that seems to be left of my brother is his lucky slingshot, Snapper.  He said it’d keep me safe, and so far, he wasn’t wrong.

Life at the Garrison was a lot less shitty with him around, though, and I tried to tell him, but he swore to me that something, someday would come along and make me forget that he was ever there.  What I really wanted was for someday to rub in his face how untrue that was, but it seemed that fate or the stars or whatever higher power finally pushed me toward something with potential.

Marco Bodt.

Shooting practice with Snapper had gone horribly wrong (as it typically does), and I ended up hitting one of Thomas Wagner’s boys, Daz, in the head.  Turns out, I saved another kid from being relentlessly beaten on by the bullies.  Tall, tan, dark, shiny hair and a mess of freckles.  I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, because I kinda thought I killed Daz, but I couldn’t lose face, especially when I knew I had to act before the bullies could.

Fast-forward to thirty seconds into this altercation, I ended up on the ground anyway, regretting why I didn't just run after pelting Daz in the face instead of helping this freckled loser.  Right when I thought Thomas was gonna rearrange my face, I heard the tearing of fabric followed by a scream of pain.  I opened my eyes, seeing Freckles deliver the wedgie from hell.

He pulled through--no pun intended--for me.  When it was all said and done, though, he was snatched by TAs while I managed to hide behind the dorm building.  I did feel a little bad about that, especially after he saved me like that.  Sure, he shouldn’t have been so slow, but still...

When we crossed paths again, he looked even more miserable than before.  I was eager to introduce myself; maybe a little too excited.  Thinking back on it, maybe dangling his pink Princess Bubblegum underwear in plain sight was a little too far (why did he even have those?), but I had to assert my point.  

“It’s sink or swim, kid, so why not have a buddy?”

It was actually something my brother used to say.  No one achieves anything out of this world without help, and now that I was stuck at The Garrison alone, without him, I needed all the help I could get.

I helped Marco carry his things into the dorm, and I won’t lie, watching him cringe at how much of a shithole the boys’ dorm was, it was pretty hilarious.  It was as if I was watching myself three years ago.  Calling the Boys Dorm a dump would be the understatement of the century. There were defamed portraits of Mr. Smith along the halls, the wallpaper was tearing off and slightly molding, and it seemed like I’d finally gotten used to the distant screams and background ambiance of chaos.

“Everyone’s staring…” Marco mumbled.  I was so used to ignoring it, I almost didn't notice.  I wasn't exactly the type to play well with others, not since my brother left, but Marco didn't know that.

“They didn't see you last year, they’re just sizing you up.” I shrugged.  “Where’s your room?”

He checked a slip of paper and lead me down the long corridor of the first floor.  Coincidentally, I was on the same floor.  I dragged his suitcase into his room and hoisted it on the bed, taking a long, envious stare at his single bedroom.  I had to share a room with a musty jock and he gets a single room?

“No roommates? Jeez, I’ll probably never see you around campus.” I folded my arms, wandering around the wide open space that would be take up by an extra bed and dresser in my room.  I tried to make a joke of it, but my jealousy seeped through no matter how hard I tried.  “This room is at least five hundred grand a semester…”

“Well...you’re welcome here whenever you want, Jean…” he said.  My eyebrow twitched.  Maybe my jealousy was a little obvious, but that was no reason to patronize me! I spun around, ready to give him an earful, but immediately forgot what I was going to say.  I knew right away that he meant nothing by it.  His smile was sincere.

“I mean, we’re friends now and all, right?”

I gave a slow nod, not trusting how chipper he was, especially for having me as a friend.  Dropping the subject, I turned to him as he started unpacking his suitcase.

“You’re pretty lucky to get this room, y’know. Bodt, right? What’s your family do?”

He shrugged at my first statement, then proceeded to answer my question.  “Um...my dad’s the head of STN…”

“Sina Television Network? The largest grossing network in the country?” I whisper-shouted, glancing outside the open door.  He nodded, smiling at my attempt at discretion.

“What about yours?”

“Ah, my mom’s an annoying socialite who owns Cash Fountain in Trost.” I said casually, still taking in all the open space of his large room.

“Oh, that’s cool. My parents go to that casino every holiday.” he said.

“Ha, good to know my parents have friends in the 'family disappointment' department." I nodded.  Marco cracked a nervous smirk, unsure if he should laugh or not.

“So, Marco Bodt, what’d a freckle-faced boy scout like you do to land yourself in a place like this?” I asked.  He just carried clothes to and from his closet and suitcase, not answering.  I was about to ask again, but he spoke before I could say the words.

“Is it...really that bad here?”

“You really have to ask after almost getting your face broken?” I let out a small chuckle.  “It only gets worse from here. That’s a better answer.”

“Seems like you’ve been here a long time.” he said.

“Typically, eighth grade is when you start to find yourself. Figure out who you like, go through a phase of shitty bands, even a gross emo or scene phase,” I began, thinking to myself that despite how embarrassing it’d be, I wouldn't mind going back and doing all those things.  “But I started eighth grade here. I learned to fight when I had to and run like hell when I saw a way out. Not much time for any of the other stuff.”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't come up with anything, nothing that would help, anyway.  The gesture was nice, though.  By the time he’d finished hanging up his clothes and put away his shoes, he plopped down on his bed and yawned.

“It’s getting late. I’ll leave you to sleep.” I headed toward the door.

“Jean,” he called, prompting me to stop.  He propped himself on his elbows, tilting his head at me.  “Thanks again...for helping me."

I blinked a couple times, a little taken back to hear sincere gratitude from someone after such a long time.  I half smiled.  “Like I said, I owe you. You’d better be up tomorrow at 8AM sharp; don’t wanna be late on your first day.”

I exited his room, feeling a strange lightness in my spirit.  I kept a straight face as I walked through the dank, dark, corridors of the boys’ dorm, but I actually felt...content.  Even if this was a friendship out of obligation and fear, it felt like a friendship nonetheless.  For the first time since my brother left, I had an ally.

When I entered my room, the stench of sweat hit me right in the face.  My roommate, Connie Springer spun around in his rolling chair, slamming his laptop closed.  

“Dude!” he shrieked, as if I didn't live here.

I could still hear loud moaning, grunting and slapping coming from his computer, but just rolled my eyes and continued to my space.  He hurriedly opened his laptop and mashed the escape button repeatedly.

“‘S alright, Springer, I didn't see anything.” I stretched out on my bed.

“I-It was just a pop-up, alright!? I...I’m gonna go for a run so don’t lock the door, got it?” he huffed, shooting up from his desk.

“Cold showers are more effective, I think.” I called as he headed for the door.

“Shut the fuck up!”

 

_The next morning…_

I rolled out of bed around 7, and surprisingly felt less dead than I did yesterday.  I went through the motions of brushing my teeth, fixing my hair, and picking out which combination of shirt, cardigan, tie, and slacks I would pick out today.  I passed Connie--who was still a lump under the covers--and headed out into first floor hallway.  I immediately felt stupid for not exchanging numbers with Marco yesterday, and headed to his room to see if he was ready.

“Yo, Marco!” I knocked on his door.  Nothing.  I pressed my ear to the door and heard light snoring.  The little bastard was still asleep! I fished a bobby pin out of my pocket and proceeded to let myself in.  Once inside, I turned my head to the snoring lump that was Marco.  Half of his face peeked through the covers, looking just as innocent and peaceful as he did while he was awake.  I tilted my head, thinking he reminded me of a little freckled angel...realizing how creepy it was that I just broke into his room and am now standing over his bed watching him sleep, I made my way toward his window and snapped the curtains open.  His eyebrows furrowed as he started to stir.

“Rise n’ shine, freckled princess!” I started clapping my hands together.  He groaned, pulling the covers over his head.  I wanted to smile at that, but I shook the notion off and kept a straight face.  “I can’t believe your ass is still in bed. Y’know what, maybe it’s not that hard to believe.”

“What time is it..?” he mumbled, still fidgeting under the covers.  On his nightstand, I saw his alarm clock wasn't plugged in.  I picked it up and shook it at him.

“Well you’d know if you set your alarm last night. What the hell was your routine like before coming here? Did someone always have to wake your ass up?”

“Kinda, yeah…” he finally sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“At least you’re honest.” I deadpanned, headed for his closet.  There was a silence that loomed over the room as I inspected his closet and he collected his wits upon just waking up.  The Boys dorm grew louder and louder as 7:45 rolled around and more boys were awake and ready to cause trouble.  Marco finally broke the silence.

“How’d you get in here? I know I locked that door last night!”

“Man, we gotta get you to the school store like, immediately.” I didn’t answer his question.

“Right now?” he yawned.

“‘Course not right now--c’mon, Bodt, wake up! I’m friggin’ hungry.” I huffed impatiently.

“I’m trying…” he hummed lazily.

“C’mon, I got your lucky undies to start your first day.” I sang, flapping those Princess Bubblegum boxers.

“Dude!” he shot out of bed, about to lunge at me.

“Yeah, awake now, are ya?” I laughed, dodging his charges.  I darted toward the door and flung them back at him.  “Hurry up!”

It took him some time, but he ended up pulling himself together for the day.  I turned to him, giving him a look that let him know he took entirely too long to get here, to which he replied with a sheepish smile.

“Lookit that smile…” I gave him a side-eye.  He curiously looked at me.  “It’s amazing how no one but me knows just how gross you are in the morning.”

“I’m not the only one in the world who’s not a morning person…” he grumbled, giving me a light shove.

The Garrison campus looked the same as it ever did.  The same miserable, washed out brick walls, the same dying grass, and the same taste of shattered dreams in the air, but with Marco here, I somehow had a better feeling about today.

I needed food in me, but before we could reach the entrance, I spotted Thomas’ gang hanging around the only open door, harassing the younger and weaker kids.  Marco drew out a sigh, obviously not wanting to deal with this so early in the morning.  I couldn't blame him.

“What’re these animals, a toll booth or something? Blocking entrances and whatnot…”

I could feel how nervous he was as we drew closer, and--for his sake--I probably should have stopped to think up some sort of way around them, but I was so used to taking these guys on, I didn't stop.

“That’s a clever way to look at it.” I gestured my head toward them, observing what they were doing.  With every kid that passed through those doors, Thomas and his boys expected some sort of payment, whether it be cash or food.  The ones who couldn't pay the price were wedgied, wet-willied, beaten up or worse depending on their mood.

“Someone should really stop them.” Marco said.

“Go for it, hero.” I smirked, extending my hand toward the bullies.  He suddenly slapped my hand down, nervously glancing back and forth.

“N-Not me! I mean, I would if I could, but you’re much more capable.”

“Trust me, Freckles, these guys are the bottom of the barrel; the least of what could be your problems here.” I said.

“Meaning..?” he inquired.  I turned his attention toward the ruckus the bullies were making.  I pointed to the large blonde in the dingy uniform first.

“The big ape that almost put us in the hospital yesterday is Thomas Wagner. Army brat. He’s been here longer than anyone...could explain his damage.” I shrugged, watching Thomas sit on another kid’s head.  I pointed to the darkskinned boy laughing his head off beside him.

“That’s Franz Kefka, Thomas’ right hand. It’s a wonder how anyone’s able to really communicate with Thomas, so you gotta give Franz some credit.”

“And that kid...the one who flipped on me yesterday…” Marco pointed to a shorter boy with short hair and a rough face.

“That’s Daz. He’s gross, I hate him, and he should’ve graduated like two fucking years ago.” I scowled.  Marco laughed a little,

“Oh, look who spotted us.” I mumbled.  Marco jerked his head toward them, completely singling us out.  Smelling the fear, Thomas left his post at the door to approach us.  Marco stepped back, wanting to run, but I held my hand to his broad back.

“Kirschstein! New kid!” Thomas pushed past other kids.

“What’re you doing? Are you gonna take care of them?” he whisper-shouted.  I furrowed my eyebrows at him, half of me wondering why he was whispering and the other half wondering if he was serious.

“Me? This is way more than I’d care to handle on an empty stomach, honestly.” I scoffed.

“Then care to tell me why we aren’t running?” his brown eyes widened with every stomp Thomas took toward us.

“Listen, Freckles, I’m gonna help you, alright? This helped me when I first got here, so when he grabs you, this is what you say…” I pulled his ear closer.

“You’re dead! You hear me? Dead!” Thomas came closer.

“Hell no I’m not saying that!” he shrieked.  I just smirked, holding my hands in the air as Thomas grabbed his collar.  Marco’s soul seemed to leave his body once Thomas cocked his fist back.  I expected more of a delay, but he recited my words verbatim.

“N-NO! YOU’LL GIVE ME A HARD ON IF YOU DO THAT!”

Thomas immediately let him go and jumped back.  “Hah!?”

I took the chance and grabbed him, dashing past his other two goons and inside the building.  Franz and Daz wanted to chase us, but a TA was walking past the entrance, giving us enough time to escape to the cafeteria.

“See? Told you it’d work. C’mon, let’s get somethin’ to eat.” I nudged him.  He trailed behind me, rubbing his head from the stress of just making it inside the building.

“Judging from the state of this establishment I dunno if I wanna eat anything from here.”

“Hey, you’re not the heir to STN in here. You’re just another cash cow they milk tuition money out of, and they don’t care if you starve or not, alright?” I told him.  “If you don’t want scraps, you gotta get in here quick. And always get to know your lunch ladies.”

I vaguely remember how annoying my mother hen tendencies got to my old friends, but even after knowing Marco for less than a day, I couldn’t help it.  All he did was smile, though.  I took the sleeve of his shirt and lead him through the shuffle of students eating breakfast.

“Jean-y boy! Oh, let me get you something good to eat!” one of my favorite servers beamed.

“Good morning, Elena. You can’t get my hopes up bein’ so nice to me, alright?” I flashed the lunchlady a smile.  I could feel Marco’s side-eye, but I had to keep charming Elena.  She gave me a blushing laugh and shook her head.  I put my arm around Marco’s shoulder and continued.

“Think you can be a little sweet on my friend Marco, here? He’s new.”

Elena eyed Marco up and down, scratching her hairnet with a fork.  “Eh, depends on how sweet Marco is on me.”

I looked over at him, waiting for him to say something.  Realizing we caught him with a bewildered expression, he wiped it off of his face and forced a smile at Elena.  “Uhm...are there any gluten-free options?”

“Sorry.” a visibly disappointed Elena said, splatting half-cooked pancakes on Marco’s tray.

The two of us wandered through the cafeteria for a place to sit.  Marco threw his styrofoam tray right in the trash and sat next to me.

“ _Gluten-free_ _options_? Have you ever flirted with a woman in your life?” I almost laughed.  He rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Unless you wanna feel the wrath that is my bowels, don’t force gluten on me, alright?”

Alright, that one got me.  My laughter started to get to him, too, since his grumpy expression softened and he turned toward me.  I sighed and shook my head, sliding my tray to him.

“Take my eggs. Fuckin’ princess…”

“Thank you.” he grinned at me, reaching for the ketchup.  My eyebrow twitched; I don’t remember any of my old friends being this adorable.  I shook my head, shoving a piece of pancake in my mouth and scooting closer to Marco.

“Alright, we already established Thomas and his boys, now lemme show you who’s who.”

Marco nodded, piling ketchup onto his eggs.  I glanced back and forth from the gross combination to his cheeky face, then continued.  I pointed to the quiet table of bookish kids sitting quietly and eating breakfast.

“That over there are the nerds, social outcasts, whathaveyou.” I then turned his attention to a brunette boy with piercing green eyes, a tall, raven-haired girl wearing a red scarf, and a blonde-haired blue-eyed boy.  “Aryan coconut over there is Armin Arlert. He’s the leader of the bookworm faction.”

“They look pretty harmless.” Marco said, mouth full.

“They’re actually sneaky bastards. Don’t take them lightly. Arlert is a clever little shit that will psychologically fuck you into submission if you cross him.” I bounced my fork at him.  Marco’s face twisted in disbelief.  “He used to go to one of the most prestigious schools in the country, but when he organized a cheating ring on one of the biggest exams of the semester, he was ratted out, expelled, and sent here. I heard he’s still after the kid who betrayed him.”

“Okay…” Marco started to laugh.

"The mean-looking one next to Arlert is Eren Jaeger. He's not exactly that smart or anything, he and Armin have just been butt-buddies since his crazy ass transferred here, and his annoying savior complex works wonders for the nerd faction." I pointed to the brunette.

“Jaeger...Where have I heard that name before..?” Marco tilted his head.

“His dad has health segments on your network. Dr. Jaeger? The guy's got a shot for everything.” I said blankly.

“Ohh!” he nodded.

“I wouldn’t wish enrollment in this hellhole on anyone, but I mean, must be difficult when you've gotta headcase for a son and all your ratings are going toward embarrassing tabloids about him instead of your show...he's on his medication now, so don't be fooled." I warned him.

“Okay.” Marco chuckled.  He pointed his chin toward the pretty one next to Eren.  “What about the girl?”

“Mikasa Ackerman. The only one who in my opinion doesn’t deserve to be here.” I said.  “She lived in Japan with her mom for a while but was sent here in hopes of better opportunities. Her dad’s an industrial design mogul and figured a kid wasn’t the best course of action right now, so he sent her here of all places.”

“That’s horrible.” Marco frowned.

“Don’t feel too bad. She learned to fend for herself real quick. In fact, she’s the muscle of this faction.” I told him.  

“ _Her_?” Marco snorted.

“Believe what you want, but if you don’t wanna be skinned alive, don’t piss off that clique and don’t mess with Eren Jaeger.” I warned.  I knew he was about to ask why, so I took a deep breath and relived what may be my biggest regret since being born.  “When she started out here, a bunch of perverts tried to take advantage of her and that psychopath Jaeger beat ‘em to a bloody pulp. Mikasa’s been in his debt ever since. Man...imagine if she was devoted to protecting _me_ like that.”

“That’s a cute love story.” Marco smirked.  I glared at him, to which he replied with that innocent smile of his.  I shoved an apple in his mouth to shut him up and pointed toward a table with a gaggle of well-dressed kids.

“Those are the preps. I know what you’re thinking: Preps are known for being rich and spoiled, well, how can that be when _every_ student here is rich and spoiled?” I paused to sip my milk.  Marco frowned at my “rich and spoiled” comment and let me continue.  “They all come from Old Money while all our families are self-made.”

“What’s wrong with that? Their families were self-made at one point, too.” Marco folded his arms.

“ _Generations_ ago.” I snorted.  He frowned at me for ignoring his point.  I laughed and pointed to three stand-out kids.  A tall, dark-haired boy with a weird haircut, a platinum blonde curly haired girl with a creepy smile, and a short, cute girl with big blue eyes and long, golden hair.

“Lemme guess, that dude's the prep leader." Marco enthused.

"No, she's the one who calls the shots." I pointed to the pretty little blonde.

"Her?" His eyebrows arched.

"Yeah and she can be quite ruthless, don't be sexist, freckles." I elbowed him. Although that was nowhere near what he meant, he just continued to listen. "Historia Reiss in the flesh."

"From the Reiss family? I heard the daughter they had went to do charity work in some obscure third world country for like, ever." Marco held his hand to his head. The Reiss family upheld a chain of hotels that have been around for generations.

"Sure she did."  I snickered. "Listen, not many people know she's Historia Reiss, it'll attract way too much attention. Her identity since coming here is Christa Lenz."

"How d'you know then?" I asked him. He paused, averting his eyes.

"I uh...kinda used to be apart of their group."

His mouth fell agape, and I knew he was dying to know why I picked up the lone wolf act in the toughest school in the country.  Instead of going into it, I continued to the next one.

"That's Hitch, Historia's right hand. Socialite in training that went down the party-girl path and was sent here."

"Wow."

"That's Marlowe, the muscle, and basically Eren Jaeger with a shittier haircut. He didn't actually do anything to get sent here. He came here by choice hoping to become a TA." I explained.

"But they're horrible." Marco sneered. "I can see why you left that group."

_‘You actually have no idea.’_ I sighed.  I quickly pointed out the next group.  Toward the emergency exit sat a bunch of washed out kids eating to their heart’s content.

“Those are the burnouts.”

Marco tilted his head.  “Would explain all the food.”

“That’s the matriarch, Ymir.” I pointed to the tall, freckled girl sitting at the end of her table, taking shameless glances at the prep table.  

“Ymir...what?” Marco looked over at me, waiting on a last name.

“That’s what I wanna know.” my eyebrows furrowed.  “Her family may or may not be part of the mob. No one knows what family that is or what she did to even get here. My money’s on drugs, y’know, since that’s what she’s known for around here.”

Next to her was a tiny blonde-haired blue eyes girl with a hook nose and pinned up hair.

"That's the muscle, Annie Leonheart. Military brat." I pointed.

"Ironic, but I'm not really surprised." Marco nodded.

"Don't get to thinkin' the burnouts are all good vibes and shit. Not while they have her. Her dad's a high ranking soldier who threw her in here after she was busted with armed robbery."

"Hardcore..." he shuddered.

"Damn right." I agreed.

We turned our attention to A doe-eyed girl with a reddish-brown ponytail was trying to pick off of her other friends' plates.

"The bottomless pit there is Sasha Braus. Her parents are top chefs that own a chain of restaurants in Dauper." I said. "She decided to play real life hemp tycoon and grow pot in her backyard. Ameteur."

“Ameteur?” Marco turned his gaze to me with a smirk.  Not deciding to get into it, I continued Sasha’s bio.  “The hilarious thing about it is that her parents were initially in on it, but when cops caught on, they suddenly weren't."

"That's so messed up..." Marco frowned.

I started to laugh. "I mean, it was pretty smart of them to let her take the fall I guess. If they were arrested, their lives and careers would be over. If they just throw Braus under the bus, she'll get off with just doin' a little time here and they'll just expunge her record anyway."

"Jean..." Marco sighed.

"Oh, what? Don't get me wrong, freckles, I think it was pretty fucked up, but y'know..." I chuckled with a shrug. He just cut his eyes away from me, looking over at the last table I didn't explain yet.

The rowdiest table in the whole cafeteria.  Any idiot could guess that those were the Jocks. I took a sip out of his milk box and glanced at a big, burly blonde one. He was the loudest one, arm-wrestling another kid from his clique.

"That's Reiner Braun. He's the star quarterback, the school's pride and joy, and leader of the Jocks--which basically means he runs this school."

Marco snorted. "What'd he do? Kill his entire team in a roidrage?"

I didn't want to laugh at how much of a smartass this kid was being.  I turned my head with a smack of the lips. "He actually had pretty humble beginnings. He was really huge when he started out here; he and I used to be friends. Then after he couldn't take being bullied anymore, he worked his ass off to get fit and joined the football team. Hard work pays off I guess...I miss chubby Braun."

We turned my head to the tall skinny kid who looked as if he'd accidentally came to school with no pants on. "That sweaty guy there is the one who fucked his schoolmates up on a roid rage. His name's Bertholdt Hoover. Star baseball player and Reiner's right hand."

"Huh..." he nodded. "Y'know, I'm just not gonna judge on appearances anymore."

"Aw, but this guy's the last one. Don't wanna guess?" I pointed to a tiny bald kid who was bouncing off the walls at the arm wrestling match. He shook his head, knowing it was going to be something he wouldn't expect.

"Connie Springer. Track star. Also my gross roommate. His mom owns a pricey fitness center and he was caught boning the midlife crisis out of a bored housewife on the machines."

"That sounds kinda dangerous." he said simply.

That’s all he could say now? It took everything in me not to laugh right then.  He had the straightest face, and I just knew there wasn’t much about this place that could surprise him now.  The fact that he was even surprised at all by the things everyone else did only made me wonder what it was he did to wind up here...it also reminded me that I haven’t told him too much about me, either.

Suddenly, a patrolling TA wandered to our space and startled the both of us.  “Hey! Are you two done here? Don’t lag around!”

“Sorry…” Marco apologized as I rubbed the ear he damn near blew out.

“Don’t be sorry, be careful!”

“Ugh, I should warn you about the Teacher’s Assistants. The four of them were all handpicked by vice principal Ackerman and aren’t afraid to put their hands on you.” I sighed, throwing my tray in the trash.

“Yeah I know, I was busted by a bigger version of mini-cravat yesterday…” he grumbled.

“Mini-cravat…” I snickered.

“There’s only four of them? Thought there’d be more, with this being an alternative school and all.” he said.

“There’s Auruo Bossard, Petra Ral, Gunther Shultz, and Erd Gin.” I told him as the two of us entered the crowded hallways.  “Don’t underestimate them. Those bastards are too good at what they do. You can get away from them with a little resistance but try not to overdo it.”

He nodded, just before walking into another kid.  I turned to see who he bumped into, who we would have to work our way around this time, but once I saw his face, I let my guard down.

“Sorry about that…” Marco held a hand up.

“Well, if it isn’t the new prisoner.” the other kid folded his arms.  I rolled my eyes and scowled at him.

“No time to talk, Kenny, we’re kinda in a hurry.”

"Seriously, Jean? That's how we're gonna be?" he started to follow us.

"Piss off." I snarled, walking faster.  Seeing how serious I was, he just smirked and stepped back.  Marco curiously looked back.  

“Who’s he?”

“He and I used to hang out, too. Shit went bad last year...but he's been doin' pretty well for himself. He's on good terms with all the factions, it seems.” I told him, glancing back at him until he left my line of sight.

“Why’s that weird? That sounds pretty good to me.” Marco shrugged.

“Bodt, It’s impossible to be cool with one clique and not on another’s shit list.” I scoffed.  “I dunno how he’s managed to ride solo around here for so long without dying.”

“Something you two have in common?” he cracked a smile.  I shot him a look, prompting him to sheepishly look away.

“I mean, you told me everything about all the cliques and who runs them...but you never told me one thing..." he began again.

I let out a loud belch, causing him to give me a frown.  "What's that?"

“Well, what’s your story? Why’d you get thrown in here?”

I slightly tilted my head, wondering how I would begin to answer that.  The look on his face let me know that he was beginning to regret asking.  I mean, I didn’t mind telling him, it’s just that there was so much to say about it, and it only put me in a place I mentally didn’t want to be.

“I was...always a problem child, I guess.” I shrugged.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the bell rang, giving me an excuse to change the subject.

“What’s your schedule like?” I asked.  He showed me a piece of paper vice principal Ackerman gave him.  “You’ve got chem right now. English after. I have that, too. I’ll see you next class. Try not to get beaten up.”

I gave him a punch on the shoulder.  From the corner of my eye, I could see him rubbing his shoulder and just watching me walk away.  There was something off about the fact that I immediately felt hollow once I left his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'll post another chapter next week! Please, tell me what you think so far! Or harass me on tumblr :)  
> freckled-stallion.tumblr.


	3. Snapper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the trouble he gets into, all Marco can really think about is if Jean's gay or not

 

Marco

 

Eleventh grade Chemistry was a complete joke. Less than half of the students weren't even doing anything much less being safe about it. The chemistry teacher, Zoe Hanji, was hardly paying attention to the class, and just rambled on about science stuff with that Armin kid, and working on their own experiments. All there was to do today was a crossword puzzle on the periodic table.

"Oh, class, I was just informed that we have a new student." She spun around to face the class.

Oh god no.

"Will a...Marco Bodt stand up and tell us about himself?" She glanced at her roster. I kept my head down, staring at my worksheet, hoping to every entity in existence that she didn't know me by face.

"Isn't that you, new kid?" Eren Jaeger said beside me, setting Hanji's sights on me.  Nice going, Jaeger.

"Ah yes, Marco Bodt! Come on now, introduce yourself to the class."

I huffed and stood up, rubbing the back of my head. "Uh..I'm Marco. Nice to meet you all."

"Nice to meet you all." A voice from the back of the class mocked, causing the rest of the class to rumble in laughter. I promptly sat down, about to continue my worksheet.

“Now, now, Marco, don’t be so shy.” Hanji continued.  “Go on and tell the class more about yourself. Where’d you come from?”

“A test tube probably.” another distant voice chortled, causing the rest of the class to react with snickers and looks of shock.  My face grew hot.

“We’re talking about me, not you.” I mumbled.  Of course, everyone heard that, evoking an even greater rumble of laughter from the class.  I swear, every time these episodes of word-vomit come about, the reactions _I_ get only make my situation worse.

Not long after that, a paper ball hit the back of my head. I glared behind me at Thomas and the the other bullies in the back of the class; of course it was him. This guy’s whole world will revolve around destroying me now, I can feel it. I looked to Hanji, who stopped paying attention to me long ago and went back to her project with the nerds.

"Hey! Knock it off!" A voice defended me. I turned, seeing Eren Jaeger stand up out of his seat. It was just the rise he needed.

"Eren..." Mikasa took his arm, signaling him to sit back down.

"You got something to say you batshit bastard?!" Thomas snarled.

" _Say?_ I won't bother speaking to an animal like you!" Eren chided, obviously trying to get a rise out of Thomas.

"What'd you call me, you prick?!" Thomas shot up.

"Deaf _and_ stupid, huh?" Eren stepped closer.

"Hey! You two calm down before I get a TA in here!" Hanji waved her hand, not even turning around.

"Eren, please calm down!" Armin called. Eren glared at Thomas with every step he took back to his seat. Thankfully, everything seemed to die down for atleast a moment. I took that opportunity to look at him at his desk beside me.

"Hey, thanks for standing up for me, Eren."

"No problem. You gotta stand up for yourself next time, new kid." He said. His face was menacing, but his words were easygoing and nice.

I glanced around before telling him, "I'm Marco."

"I know." He said.  Was it a universal thing to not call me by name as long as I'm new?

"He's that kid who hangs around with Jean Kirschstein now." Mikasa flipped through her book.

"That sociopath? Word of advice, new kid, don't hang around horse face. His own faction couldn't even handle him for too long."

"The preps..?" I tilted my head.

"I know, those uppity fuckers look like they wouldn't be able to handle a lot, but horse face is a real piece of work." He folded his arms.

"What'd he do to end up here?" I asked.  I know, I know, this should be a conversation for Jean and I when Jean was ready, and if Eren Jaeger was calling Jean a sociopath, I should really not believe it, but I was just too curious.

"I heard it was lewd conduct in the back of a school bus." Mikasa said.

"Lewd. Conduct." Eren poked his tongue in his cheek and moved his fist toward his mouth, imitating a blowjob. It honestly took me a minute, but when I got it, my eyes widened.

"You seem pretty good at that, Jaeger." Thomas scoffed up a laugh.

"I saw a lot of it from your mom!" Eren snapped back. As another classroom disturbance erupted, all I could do was think.

_'Jean's gay..? I coulda sworn I sensed a crush on Mikasa...and the shameless flirting with the lunchladies..!'_ I rested my hand on my palm, eyes widened.

"You dunno what you're talkin' about anyway, dumbass! Kirschstein was busted on vandalism. He grafittied a bunch of dicks all over his teacher's car." Thomas continued.

_'Oh my god he's gay.'_ My eyebrows raised. I tapped my chin, thinking more on it. _'On second thought, maybe not...straight boys are strangely enamored with dicks, too...'_

"You're both sorely mislead. Kirschstein was arrested for throwing a soup can through a girl's window." A prep boy scoffed, confident in his allegations.

_'Girl? Why a soup can, that’s such a waste...'_  My eyebrows furrowed. Instead of questioning the validity of these rumors, I seemed to be more concerned with Jean's sexuality. I groaned, slapping my hand over my head, immediately expelling any strange thoughts from my brain. Jean is my friend. My only friend.

"It's alright, new kid. Just lose horse face, and keep your head down." Eren patted my shoulder, thinking he was being comforting.

I slid my eyes toward him, then back to the front of the class, not even wanting to dignify that statement with a response.

"Are you finished with that, mister Bodt?" Hanji asked, pointing to my worksheet.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." I handed it to her, waiting on my next sheet.

"Ah, no problem. Good job. You're free to go." She placed my sheet on her desk. That's it? That's class? I packed my things and headed out, ignoring the stares from my classmates and attempted tricks from the bullies.

Jean Kirschstein may have been a little rough around the edges, but I can’t deny there was something about him I didn’t mind being around...or maybe even liked.  Maybe it’s a little too soon to say we ‘clicked’, but I would much rather his company than anyone else’s at this point. Then again, it was only my first day here.

I strolled through the hallways, flashing my pass to the TAs, wondering what my next move was going to be. Before I could even think to head back to my room and sleep until English class, I felt a massive force yank me right off my feet and slam me against a wall.

"OOGAH BOOGAH!"

"AHH!"

I stopped shuddering once I heard laughing. I peeled my eyes open and and let out a sigh of relief.

"Jean!" I punched him hard in the arm.

"Ow! That actually hurt, freckles!" He rubbed his arm. I held my hand to my chest and stepped away from the wall he had me pinned against. "You shoulda seen the look on your face!"

"I'm gonna get you back for making me almost wet myself, jerk." I shook my head as he kept laughing.

"I'm sorry it's just...this damn sweater vest. It's just so...look how easily you can grab it!" He took a fistful of the fabric. "If I couldn't help it, imagine how it looks to actual bullies."

"Assuming you're not a bully." I scoffed, slapping his hand off my shirt.

"Hey, I only give people what they got comin' to 'em." He protested. I rolled my eyes and kept walking. "C'mon, the school store is near the gym. Let's get you out of this disgrace."

After all this time, I just noticed his basketball shorts and Garrison tank top under his school shirt.

"Did you get outta class early, too?"

"Sorta." He shrugged. "I let coach Shadis take roll and just...left."

"Skipping, Jean?" I frowned.

"I fucking hate gym. I was on my way to Mike's class." He told me.

"Friend of yours?" I asked.

"Mike's the art teacher." He said, digging through my bag. Once he pulled out my schedule, he grinned. "Hey, you have 'im too this semester."

"It's cool we have class together. I suck at art..." I laughed nervously.

"Technically we don't. I took that art level forever ago, I just like hanging out in the art room." He shrugged.

Once we got behind the main school building and toward the extracurricular buildings, I just glanced back and forth at Jean. My friend.

I really wanted to ask about the rumors everyone spread in class, I wanted to know more about him. I couldn't bring myself to ask about why he's here.  We called ourselves friends, but I've only known him since yesterday.  

"Take a look, Bodt. Don't even be too disappointed, none of these clothes are worth what they cost." He snapped me out of my thoughts.

"This where you shop?" I asked.

"It's so hard not to take that question as an insult." He mumbled.

"Just a question." I assured him with a smile.

"Yeah. This is mostly where all the non-clique kids shop so as to not cause any confusion." He answered.

I wanted to call out on how stupid it was to have a dress code no one even noticed fora clique, but it made sense. The jocks wore sports gear somewhere in their uniform. The burnouts had on leather, or denim somewhere in their uniform. The preps wore plaid with bow ties, and The nerds mostly wore sweater vests and ties, like me today. It was probably why Eren even acknowledged me.

It may be potentially dangerous to invest in non-clique clothing, but I was pretty sure it was even more dangerous to identify with one clique and risk being targeted by the others. Jean peered over my shoulder as I paid for my things at the register.

"Hey, those don't look half bad."

I was going to respond with a thank you, but was interrupted by a couple of boys strolling into the shop.

"Jeany boy! Man oh man, what'll coach Shadis say when I mention to ‘im that I saw you hanging out at the poor store with some freckled kid?"

It was those bullies, Franz and Daz, _again_. It felt like these bullies were crawling all over the school. The glare Daz and Franz shot us caused me to stay frozen right where I was. Something told me they didn't forget what happened earlier this morning...

"You tryna threaten me, Franz?" Jean turned me around and unzipped my bag.

"Aw, Jeen's such a sweet guy to take his boyfriend on shopping sprees." Daz chortled.

"One, it's _Jean_ , you fucking gremlin, and two, better-looking clothes might do ya some good, too, might distract from that face you got goin' on." He shoved my clothes into my backpack.

"What!?" Daz snarled, immediately becoming hostile, to which Jean wasn't the least bit fazed.

"Hey if you animals wanna fight, don't do it on my store!" The shopkeep jabbed his finger out the door.

"Right, sorry." I nodded, trying not to seem so nervous. I grabbed Jean by his sleeve and headed out. "C'mon, Jean, forget them..."

"Don't you try to run away now! I don't let insults I don't understand slide!" Daz said.

"Jeez, all this anger...there really must be someone you're tryna impress." Jean scoffed as we exited the store. Daz glanced at Franz, then glared back at Jean, even more ticked than he was a second ago.

"Oh! I see. Tryna show off for Franz, huh? Heh, and _I'm_ the one still in the closet, huh, Marco?" Jean elbowed me with a chuckle.

"Still..? A-As in you're not anymore or was that just a...joke..?" I said just before clearing my throat. Jean--understandably--gave me the weirdest look.

" _What?_ "

"I've had it with with your shit talk, Kirschstein!" Franz turned red as he moved in to charge.

"Aw, did I make the little bitchbaby upset?" Jean challenged him, pulling the slingshot out of his pocket. I stepped back as Franz came closer toward the two of us. I thought I'd gotten a safe distance away, but it seemed that Franz wasn't even targeting Jean...he was after me!

"Oof!" I wheezed after being tackled to the ground.

"Hey! Leave him outta this!" Jean turned to help me, but Daz grabbed him while he was off guard, trying to wrestle the slingshot out of his grip.

"Let go, shitstain..!" Jean growled. I was still trembling with eyes tightly shut from thinking Franz was going to hit me, I hardly noticed him get off of me.

"Agh!" Jean's voice sounded. I opened my eyes and saw him on the ground, keeled over and clutching his stomach.

"Jean!" I scrambled off the ground.

"Good luck gettin' this back, _Jeen_!" Franz cackled as he and Daz ran off with Jean's slingshot.

"Jean...Jean are you okay? Where'd they get you?" I held him up, examining him.

"I can't believe they fuckin' got Snapper!" He snarled, picking himself up and running in the direction the two bullies disappeared to. I immediately ran after him. I couldn't be left alone and I didn't want to leave him, either.

The thieves let us chase them right around to the auto shop area. There were more bullies waiting for us there, and thats when I figured out that it was a set up. Jean, however, didn't seem to care what they were planning.

I had no idea what good I would be to him, especially since he was tearing through any one who got in his way. I could see the startled expression on Franz's face from watching Jean take down the decoys, and quickly realized that I also underestimated him.

"Get back here you pricks!" Jean shouted, slamming one of his opponents to the ground. I stepped over the poor boy writhing in pain and followed my friend

"Call Thomas!" Daz shoved Franz.

"H-He's in chemistry, he can't get out!" Franz told him, stepping back with each step Jean took toward them.

"Hand it over." Jean held out his hand, coming closer.

"Piss off!"

Not wasting his breath asking again, Jean charged at the duo, intending to take them both head on. He tackled Franz to the ground and threw a punch, and another, and another. "Give it back!" He demanded. Daz distracted him by getting him in a chokehold, trying to give Franz a chance to recover.

I didn't want to just stand there any longer. It wouldn't be long before they come for me, anyway. I spotted an aluminum trash can lid and picked it up. Daz and Jean were stumbling around as Jean tried to escape Daz's grip. I just came closer with the metal lid and slammed it on the back of Daz's head, and he immediately let go of Jean. The blonde took that opportunity to punch Daz right in the nose, landing him on top of Franz. I swallowed hard, still clutching the lid.

"Thomas will hear about this..!" Franz groaned.

I let out a breath and dropped the trash lid. Jean stuffed his slingshot into his pocket and turned to me.

"Marco...You alright?"

"I will be once we get outta here..."

Jean agreed, walking with me back to the building for lunch. He walked silently at my side, calming down from all that angry adrenaline he felt just now. He kept one hand in the pocket he kept the slingshot in. Jean noticed me staring and stared back.

“Um…” he cleared his throat.

"Uh..." I began at the same time.  Realizing we cut each other off, we paused a moment.  I already knew he was wondering about the sudden burst of bravery came from.  Instead, he let me continue.

"You must really like that slingshot..." I said.

Jean glanced at me, then flashed that smile of his.  “Wanna try it out?”

“Yeah!” I eagerly nodded.  He snickered at my dorkish excitement and nudged me to follow him.  He lead me toward the back of the school where the bullies typically hang out.  An abandoned school bus sat at near the school's washed out brick wall, rusting away and sitting on cinder blocks.

“Here, aim for those windows.” he handed the weapon to me.

“Won’t we get in trouble?” I glanced around.

“Not if you’re quick about it.” he shrugged, folding his arms.

Before I bent down to pick up a rock from the ground, I took another look at the slingshot, wondering what it was about this that was so important.

"It was my brother's." Jean broke my thoughts.. "Feels like this thing is all that's left of 'im."

My eyes flicked back at him, immediately regretting how nosy I was being. "Jean...I'm sorry..."

His sudden laughter unsettled me. "Chill out, freckles, he's not dead!"

"Oh! Well don't sound so cryptic about 'im! I really felt bad, too!" I started to laugh too. "Where is he?"

"Prison." Jean answered. I froze, a little put off by how nonchalant he was about it.

"Jean..."

"So, d'you have a habit of growing balls outta nowhere and performing some heroic KO in every fight we get into?" He suddenly asked.

I blinked, furrowing my eyes at his use of words. "What?"

"Just now, when you used that trash lid on Daz's head like a fucking gong. And yesterday when you wedgied the living shit out of Thomas. What's with that?" He chuckled.

"I...I dunno I guess sometimes I just snap..." I shrugged, looking away. Once I said that, bits and pieces of the particular incident that landed me here started flashing back. I remembered being handcuffed and arrested, the judge telling me what I did, but I just don't remember any of it. Jean tilted his head, watching me lost in thought this whole time.

“You gonna shoot the damn thing or what?”

“Oh yeah.” I finally picked up a rock.  I put it in place and stretched the elastic as I aimed for the abandoned windows.  The rock crashed straight through the window and out of the window on the opposite side.

“Holy shit..!” Jean slammed his hand on my shoulder.  Immediately thinking I did something wrong (you know, worse than shooting broken down buses with a slingshot), I turned to him only to catch him with a scowl.  “Marco, we're gonna fucking fight."

He sounded so serious, I nervously looked over at him.

"Why’re you a way better shot than I was on my first try?”

I started to laugh, but we were both suddenly distracted by noises coming from the bus.  Misplaced screams and shuffling.  I stumbled back, watching to see what would come out.

“Why didn’t you tell me that bus was haunted, Jean?”

“Please.” Jean scoffed.  “I completely forgot this bus was burnout territory.”

“Shit! Con--Connie, quick! Someone found us!” a girl started to panic.  A boy’s voice soon followed over the shuffling inside the bus.

“Huh? Wait--my pants..!”

I looked over at Jean, who quietly inched closer to the bus with a smirk curving the corners of his lips.  Finally, Connie Springer of the Jocks and Sasha Braus of the Burnouts rushed out of the old bus doors, trying to fix their disheveled clothes, only to be caught by Jean and I standing there.

Sasha tried to appear as if she wasn’t caught redhanded, and proceeded to demand answers.  “Kirschstein! How would you like to explain to Ymir where you get off throwin’ rocks at her bus?”

“You wanna talk about getting off, huh?” Jean snorted, causing the two of them to turn bright red.  Once Sasha saw the slingshot in my hand, she narrowed her brown eyes at me, as if she was taking a mental picture of me to remember to ruin me later.

“Y’know, if you really do wanna bring this to Ymir’s attention, I think she’d be much more interested in what you were doing and with whom…” Jean hummed.  He tilted his head to the nervous trackstar.  “Maybe Reiner would wanna join the party too, huh, Con?”

“Chill out, man. We weren’t doing anything! Not too much yet, anyway…” Connie scratched the back of his head.  Sasha punched him in the arm, then refocused on Jean.

“What d’you want?”

“Nothing! Just let the window thing slide. We were never here if you weren’t.” Jean held his hands up with a shrug.  The two let out a sigh of relief, thinking that was the end of it, and I did, too, but Jean spoke again.  “I think a little something else will keep us silent, too.”

A pause loomed over the four of us, and I’m pretty sure the only one it wasn’t uncomfortable for was Jean.  Sasha finally seemed to cave, rolling her eyes and taking off her backpack.

“How much, asshole?”

“I’ll settle for an eighth.” Jean told her.

“An eighth!” Sasha shrieked, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen her.  

"What's an eighth?" I blinked, genuinely confused.  The three of them gave me strange looks, only making me feel more lost.  They ignored me and continued their conversation.  Connie took Sasha by the arm.

“C’mon, babe, just do it…”

Sasha rolled her eyes and shoved her hand in her bag.  She rested her amber eyes on me, knowing I was less confident about this.  I tried looking away from her and focusing on looking out for any TAs or teachers walking around.  When I glanced back, only her fist was visible.  She leaned in and took Jean's hand, as if she was giving him a handshake, then stepped back.

“Glad doing business with such a cute couple. We were never here.” Jean put a plastic bag in his bag, nudging me to follow him.  My earlier question was answered once I smelled the stench of marijuana coming from his bag.

As I walked with him, I wanted to say something about how weird that felt, but I quickly realized that there wasn't much I could say. He already explained to me how these cliques worked, about how much stronger they are than us, and how we should exploit any weaknesses they show us...but I was always too softhearted for my own good.

"Don't feel bad for those two. If we didn't catch 'em right then and there, someone woulda caught us." Jean said, sticking his slingshot in his pocket.

The smell from the weed in his bag was so strong it was making me nervous. It just made me wonder why he had to take it there in the first place.

"Don't you think a fair trade would be to keep quiet about them if they kept quiet about the window?" I asked.

"How could I be so sure either of 'em will? I needed somethin' from her to prove to Ymir we had an agreement...in case Braus decides to get brave." He told me, chewing on his thumb nail. Well. I honestly hadn't thought of it that way. He put his hand down and cracked a smirk. "Trust me, I know how Ymir thinks."

"You seem to know a whole lot about every leader here."

"Been here a long time, y'know, I know everybody." Jean shrugged.

"Or is it 'cause they all know you?" I tilted my head. He scratched his sandy blonde hair, looking away from me and at the main building, which was now expelling children from its doors for the afternoon as the bell rang.

"The hell is this, an interrogation?" He snorted. I shrugged and looked away, signaling I meant nothing by it.  Maybe my curiosity was coming off too strong too soon. "It was really my brother everyone knew. They took 'im away last year."

I figured it was nothing earlier, but since I started hanging out with Jean, I started to notice people--namely clique kids--stare at Jean.  It was the kind of shifty-eyed glance people gave whenever they were watching their backs...I mean, who wouldn't be cautious in a place like this, but I never got what it was about Jean they were so cautious about.  However, once he mentioned this older brother he had.

"Your brother was really famous, huh?" I tried to ignore the glances. He didn't even have to say it, but infamous was the correct word.  My curiosity grew stronger at that.  Jean seemed to be all too used to these looks, though. I had the feeling that they all wanted to say something, do something--to me especially, but something about Jean held them back. It all seemed to end once we entered the building.  I began to realize that maybe the staring wasn't because of Jean, but because of him and the reputation his brother left behind.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wednesdays. Yeah, Wednesday updates sound pretty good.


	4. We're A Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean teaches Marco that tampons have multiple uses~

Jean

 

I should be used to brawling with bullies, but the pain in my knuckles and dirt on my pants was something I could never get used to.  I sat in English class, still a little sore from battling with Thomas' boys yesterday. I couldn't even really focus on what Mr. Dawk was droning on about, because I just knew those bastards had something waiting for Marco and I whenever they get the chance.

I turned my head to look at Marco sitting next to me, diligently taking notes, and my anxiety simmered down a bit from watching him. He was so focused, he didn't seem to be worried about anything outside this classroom. He caught me looking and flashed a small smile. I immediately broke the eye contact and glanced around the fluorescent lit room.

"I have good news and great news, class." The English teacher, Nile Dawk, droned. "The good news is that you don't have homework for the rest of the week."

There was a rumble of relieved sighs and delighted whispers. The teacher then smirked, continuing. "The great news is that it’s because you will be busy conducting a book report of your choice by the end of this week."

As expected, the class collectively groaned and sighed in disappointment, Marco included. I knew better than to fall for anything a teacher said; they're even more rotten than the students here, simply because they aren't students.

"Alright, for the remainder of class, I'm sending you all to the library to find the book you wish to study. Good luck." He said.

“My first week at school and I have a book report due by the end of it. Awesome.” Marco hummed as the two of us wandered out into the hallways.  It’s honestly been a while since I've seen a kid here--besides the nerd faction--who was legitimately concerned about schoolwork.  I can’t remember the last time I actually put any effort into school, either.  I always did enough to get by. It wasn't that I struggled with learning, I guess I just struggled to care. I realized how flawed the education system is before being thrown in here.

Marco seems like he’d be just as idealistic about this as he is about everything else.  He exited the classroom, totally preoccupied with figuring out what he was going to do his report on.

“Yo, what’s your hurry?” I tried to keep up with him.  He’d certainly run into trouble if he was too far away from me.

“Sorry.” he slowed down.  “I got lost in thought.”

“It’s just a book report, dude.”

"You sound like you handle school no problem." He said. As I tried to figure out what exactly he meant by that, I just folded my arms and kept following him outside the building.

"Well, I'm not always saving freckled princesses from harm. I actually do homework in my spare time."

"I've only known you about a week and I already can't with the biting sarcasm." He have me a side eye.

I chuckled to myself at that, deciding to give him a break and not respond.  Marco was so fun to mess with.  He was also fun to talk to.  I was actually glad to call him my friend.  Every kid wants to belong to a wealthy family, but they never consider the fact that they'll never have any real friends.  I never acknowledged it out loud, but friendship was something I really wanted, something I knew I'd treasure forever, and spending more and more time with Marco was making me more confident in getting to share that with someone.

"Y'know, I've been so busy trying not to get my ass kicked, I haven't stopped to take a real tour of this place." he hummed.

"There's no place worth touring here. The school's a dump. This town's a dump." I grumbled.

"You can leave? The gates are always shut, though." he scratched his head.

"They always keep the gates closed for the first couple weeks of the semester, but the town of Stohess is open to us. Makes the school feel somewhat less like a prison, I guess." I stared over at the tall iron gates at the entrance.  I cracked a smile, going on.  "Y'know, maybe the only thing redeeming this shithole is the amusement park. Near the outskirts of town, there's a small carnival that's open literally every weekend."

The last time I was outside these walls was at that carnival with my big brother.  It was the last time I saw the carnival and the last time I saw him.  I was so lost in thought I almost didn't notice Marco staring with those big puppy dog eyes.

"You gotta show it to me. Are the rides fun? Are there clowns? Clowns kinda freak me out, but its still exciting to see, ya know?" 

It was honestly pretty adorable how excited he gets over these things, and I didn't want to ruin it with my bitter memories.  Before he could ask again, I nudged the back of his head with my fist.  "Yeah, yeah, aren't you more worried about that report you wanted to do, nerd?"

"O-Oh yeah..! Hey, Jean c'mon, stop!"

* * *

 

“Whoa, I haven’t been in the library, ‘til now. It’s so...clean...” Marco blinked, taking a look around.

“More than half the faction that claims this territory is allergic to practically everything, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.” I cracked a smile.

“They’ve gotta have The Great Gatsby, right? That’s a good book to do, right?” he hummed, skimming through the aisles.

" _Everyone_ is doing that cliche ass book." I responded, holding The Crucible in one hand and MacBeth in the other.

"I wouldn't have thought you were so well read, Jean." Marco almost laughed. I frowned at him as he continued. "Will I fall asleep reading these?"

"You kidding? You got your classic rom-com where a girl uses witchcraft to get her man outta his marriage and into her arms, and here's an easy one to write--everyone dies. Perfect!"

Marco sighed, scratching his head and slumped against the shelves.

"I could write it for you..." A familiar voice whispered.

"Whoa..!" Marco jerked his head over his shoulder. There was a space in the shelf where the voice was coming from.

"Armin?" I tilted my head, peering through the book space.

The blonde removed more books from the shelf to see us clearly. "Yes...it's me."

"Why are you hiding behind the bookshelf? Isn't this your safe haven?" Marco inquired.

"Normally, yes...but today it isn't. Mikasa and Eren are still in class and it's way too dangerous to be seen alone." He glanced around. After a moment's thought, he cracked a nervous smile. "Y’know...I have books that need to be returned, but they're in my locker and I can't chance going from here to the next building alone."

"Ah, sounds rough, bro." I feigned an empathetic look, prompting his face to droop with disappointment. "Good luck with all that."

“Look, In exchange for some protection, I’ll write your book reports for you both." Armin locked those blue eyes with mine. My eyebrow raised at the offer, while Marco backed away.

"Oh no, you don't have to do that, Armin..."

"Then that means you'll help?" Armin's big blue eyes brightened.

"Like hell." I snorted. Marco frowned at me, to which I folded my arms and stood my ground. "I don't give a rats ass what his problem is, cause it ain't ours. You know damn well we don't need to involve ourselves--especially for free."

"Jean..." Marco growled, folding his arms.

"I've got no problem doing the assignment for you both." Armin chirped.

"It doesn't feel right. I'll help you, alright, Armin? Free of charge." Marco smiled. I rolled my eyes, expecting him to be glad, but he just looked at me with those big blue eyes.

"No offense to you, Marco, but it's all meaningless without Jean." He rubbed his arm nervously.

Marco pursed his lips and looked away, slighted. I gave a slight chuckle at the fact that Marco was just another target to the bullies without me. I could just let this deal fall through, but when I looked over at Marco's big brown eyes waiting for my answer, I ended up caving. The kid is literally a spotted puppy dog.

"Fine. I want a report on The Crucible by the end of the week, coconut head." I narrowed my eyes at him. Armin let out a sigh of relief, following me out of the library. I looked over at Marco, who was looking back at me with that warm smile of his.

"Just this once, Bodt." I scowled, holding a finger up. He just kept smiling, walking ahead with Armin out of the safer confines of the library. I mean, even if I refused, Marco would've done something idiotic, like go and try to help Armin by himself. I don't want to see him hurt...like, I don't want my only ally to be down for the count, you know? Yeah, that's it.

"It's better not to go all the way toward the front entrance. More TAs will be guarding the side doors and even the bullies know better than to start anything around them." Marco explained.

"Oh, you're right. Hopefully one of the side doors are open..." Armin headed toward the side doors.  Locked.  Armin shuddered, starting to worry.

"Don't worry, we can still go around the back way." Marco patted his shoulder. I just shoved my hands in my pockets, trailing the two of them through the slightly empty campus. 

I could feel the scowl forming on my face as I watched the two of them. As far as I'm concerned, Armin's just using Marco, and the dumb sap is too damn good-hearted to realize. I didn't trust Arlert or his clique worth a shit. Sure, I may be able to beat his ass ten ways to Sunday, but I was smart enough to know that afterward he'd be in hiding, healing his wounds and plotting my murder to make it look like a legitimate accident.

As Marco predicted, TAs were wandering around the back way, namely Petra and Auruo.

"Honestly, Petra, the Garrison's been too good to you just so you'd throw it away and get an actual teaching job." Auruo scoffed. Petra just chuckled and ran her fingers through her bright hair.

"This is only temporary, you know. You don't plan to stay here forever, do you? Besides, Levis going to write up my recommendation letter soon."

" _Levi?_ Since when are you on a first name basis with vice principal Ackerman?" Auruo sneered.

"Whys that any of your business?" She folded her arms with a frown. Suddenly, there was a loud crackling sound, followed by frantic screaming in the distance. Both TAs stopped their shop talk and darted off to the scene, causing us to walk right into unguarded territory.

"Was that a firecracker?" Marco hummed cluelessly. Armin knew as well as I what was coming.

Right on cue, I sensed us being followed. My eyes narrowed, scanning the area as I reached into my backpack for Snapper. I inched closer to Marco--who hardly noticed me coming--and brushed my hand against his.

I was trying to be subtle, but the kid flipped. He stopped his conversation mid-sentence, jerking his head toward me, wide-eyes and red-faced.

"Wh-What is it..?!"

"Jeez..." I blinked, slipping Snapper in his hand. "Just tryna warn you to keep your eyes peeled."

"Y-Yeah. I know. I am." He said matter-of-factly, looking away. Armin cocked an eyebrow, glancing back and forth at us. If he has a clue as to what the hell Marco's problem is, I'd love to know. Before we could delve deeper into the matter, the presence I felt following us finally revealed itself. It was--of course--the Bullies ready to deliver Armin's weekly pain subscription, and unfortunately for us, Thomas was in the mix this time. Things get difficult when one faction leader is involved, but when more are involved, it tends to get ugly.

"It must be your birthday, Thomas. All the targets on your shit list, all in one place for ya!" Daz grinned. Armin shook, taking a tiny step back.

"Y'know, Arlert, I'm _really_ tired of that Jaeger kid steppin' outta line and tellin' me who I can pick on. Did you let 'I'm forget who I am?!" Thomas snarled, stepping closer to Armin.

"I-If you're talking about Chemistry yesterday, I-I tried to diffuse that situation..! I--!"

Thomas cut him off by grabbing his sweater vest and yanking him off the ground. The act seemed to rile up the other bullies he had with him.

"Leave 'im alone, Thomas!" Marco boldly demanded. My eyebrows shot up, Thomas and his boys paused--hell, even Armin looked a little shocked.

This kid can't fight worth a shit, but somehow helping other people gives him the balls to do these things. While it's a stupid source of strength, it's a little...inspiring?

"It's your second day here and you already think you run shit, huh, new kid?" Thomas dropped Armin and turned his attention to Marco. Shit. I shouldn't have given Snapper to that idiot. Now would be the perfect time to shoot at them while they're distracted.

"That's not it. I just don't get what your problem is. Picking on him or anyone else isn't gonna get you anywhere but in more trouble--"

**_THWACK_ **

And down goes Marco spinning to the ground; I wasn't sure which impact was harder, Thomas' fist, or how hard he fell to the ground.  Armin shrieked as used this chance to take off running toward the building.

"Hey! Get your ass back here, Arlert!" Thomas' henchmen chased after him, leaving Thomas with us. Marco was curled onto the ground, clutching his face. When he tried to get up, I noticed blood drip onto the pavement, and I started to feel my blood boil.

"You fucking ape!" I lunged at Thomas. He tried to prepare for my attack, but I was faster, and flung my foot right into his kneecap, causing him to drop down on one knee. I gave him one hard punch in his face, and another, but the bastard just wouldn't fall. His knee recovered and he stood up, attempting to deliver the uppercut that would end my life...if I wasn't fast enough to dodge it. While I escaped the attack, I lost my footing and fell right on my ass. Of course, not two seconds after, he tackled me on the ground. I hate Thomas Wagner. He's a goddamn behemoth. There's no way I can beat him...not alone, anyway. While I thought Marco was down for the count, he saves my ass, again. Thomas almost rearranged my face before a flying projectile hit him right at the back of his head.

"Oww! I'll _murder_ you, new kid!" He turned to Marco, grabbing me by the throat so I wouldn't do anything while he's distracted.

"Let him go!" Marco demanded, placing another rock in Snapper. Blood trickled down his nose and mouth, and I knew his face was hurting to high heaven, but his eyes were fierce, there was no way he was letting that show now.

"Quit tellin me what to do!" Thomas cried. In the distance, I saw Auruo and Petra coming back in a hurry. They had their sights on us.

"Marco, put Snapper away..!" I told him, scratching at Thomas' grip on my throat. They were coming closer, and Marco was confused. They were at his back, and if he put Snapper away quickly enough, it wouldn't be taken away. God, I wouldn't know what to do if Snapper was confiscated. Luckily, Marco must've heard the footsteps behind him and got Snapper out of sight.

"You! Remove yourself from that boy!" Auruo grabbed Thomas by the scruff of his shirt as yanked him off the ground.

"Argh! Let me go! I didn't do nothin'!" Thomas snarled. His weight was finally lifted off of me.

"Nothin', huh? Then how d'you explain this boy's face?!" Petra helped Marco to his feet. I rushed to his side, helping him stand up. She took a look at his nosebleed and frowned.

"He really slugged you, huh? We should get you to an infirmary."

"Er--I'll take 'I'm, miss." I quickly offered. If they did Snapper on him, they'll confiscate it for sure.

"Are you sure you two will be alright? You were in the scuffle, too, are you hurt?" She asked. I was about to answer, but Auruo interrupted.

"Petra! Can you get over here and help with this little shit?! He's like a wild boar or something!"

"Ugh. You two head straight for the nurse, got it?"

I nodded, and she finally left to help her partner with apprehending Thomas. I sighed and turned to Marco, who was starting to wobble.

"Christ, Freckles, what the hell is wrong with you?" I grunted, slinging his arm over my shoulder.

"Ugh...my head..." He groaned, drooping his head. The blood dripped from his nose and onto his white shirt. I pressed my finger against his forehead and tilted his head back.

"Don't droop, idiot. C'mon, I got first aid in my room."

"But she said--"

"Yeah, yeah, jeez, you always do what people tell you?"

It was lucky that those TAs showed up to help...seemingly out of nowhere. How did they know to show up here? Did Armin say something? Regardless, I had to get Marco to the boys dorm.  I hauled him inside, ignoring the stares and whispers of other kids wandering around the hall.  I fished my room key out of my pocket and jammed it inside before turning the knob.  I didn’t bother closing the door.  He sat down on my bed, glancing around my room.

“Lean back while I get something to stop the bleeding.” I pushed him onto the bed.  His cheeks began to redden as he rested against my pillow.

“Jean, I...thanks…” he said.  I looked over at him, laying so stiffly on my bed.  He folded his fingers together; god knows what he was so nervous about, but I had to focus on stopping the bleeding.

“I hope you learned your lesson.” I huffed.  He turned his head toward me, forgetting all about his nosebleed.  I scrambled toward my bed, pressing my palm against his face.

“Don’t move, you’ll get blood on my pillow!”

He didn't respond.  He didn't even really move.  He glanced at my hand against his face and swallowed hard.  A little confused, I shook my head and moved back across the room. I grabbed a couple tampons from my little box of first aid items and handed them to him.

"Stick these in since you wanna move around so bad."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why d'you have these?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because my uterus sheds itself once a month during menstruation--because they're super absorbent okay?"

He took them from my hands and fed me a look that had enough of my sarcasm. I sighed, plopping down at my desk.

“I hope you learned that everyone here is out to protect their own. Armin doesn't give a shit about you or what you did for him just now."

He didn't respond, he just stuck the tampons into his nose, swiping the excess dirt from the side of his face. The look on his face was pitiful, but I wanted him to understand.

"You guys have all lived together for years, semester in and semester out, and still haven't gotten the decency to treat eachother a little less like animals?" His eyebrows furrowed.

Every wealthy child knows how cutthroat the world outside of their family and connections is.  Some kids here don’t even trust those in their own faction. The sacrifice of having everything is that sometimes there isn't anyone to share it with. Real friends don't exist for the rich and famous.  Every kid here knows that...didn't Marco?

He glanced up at me and cracked a small smile.  “You’re not like them though, huh, Jean?”

I blinked, just watching this dork smile at me with tampons shoved up his nose.  I tried to fight the smile that was pulling at my lips, but it spread across my face as giggles bubbled out of me.  Marco tilted his head from confusion.  Suddenly I was thrown into an all out laughing fit.

“W-What’re you laughing about?” a smirk was starting to form at his mouth as he kept watching me laugh.  I just shook my head and recomposed myself.  It was only now I was realizing just how much I’d actually laughed in a while, and this kid was the cause.

“You just look so damn silly.”

His cheeks reddened a little, and he gave me a shove.  The smile on my face from laughing remained, until I saw Marco staring up at something behind me.  I turned, seeing a tall, slender, brunette boy with that stupid budding beard; Kenny Ackerman was standing in my doorway.  My guard shot up as he offered an overly polite smile and wave.  I scoffed, standing up and facing him.

“Why’re you standing at my door, Ackerman?”

“It's wide open.” he shrugged.

“So's your face, but I'm not gonna punch you without a warning.” I scowled.

“Now, now, now, is that any way to thank me after all my help?” he held his hand to his chest.  I didn’t respond.  He was obviously going somewhere with this.  However, he took a second to study Marco and I.  I didn't even realize how protective I was being over Marco, slightly standing in front of him the way I was.

“I mean, there was no way those TAs would've gotten to you guys without me tellin’ ‘em.” he finally said.

“That was you?” Marco spoke.  Not answering his question, Kenny entered my room, extending his hand toward Marco, causing my eyes to widen with paranoia.

“I don’t think we've officially met. I’m Kenny Ackerman--no relation to the other two here. What’s your name, new kid?”

“It’s what’s-it-to-ya, glad you’re acquainted.” I folded my arms.

“Jean…” Marco nudged me.

“What? I don’t trust this kid.” I glared at Kenny, who just stood there with that smug smirk on his face.

“You don’t trust anybody.” Marco grumbled, rubbing his head that was probably still aching from earlier.

“And you trust every damn body, now look where that got you.” I shot back.  He locked eyes with me, giving me slow nods, as if to say I won this one.  Still, I wished I hadn't said anything.  He pulled the tampons out of his nose and threw them in the trash.

“You’re right. I’ll be in my room. Thanks.”

“Marco, wait!” I tried to go after him, but Kenny stepped in my way.

“Sorry about your lover’s quarrel.”

“What the fuck d’you want?” I could feel my fists twitching.  He held his hands up with a genuinely confused expression.

“Why’re you so hostile toward me? I thought we were a--”

“Don’t.” I cut him off.  I knew exactly what he was going to say; that we were a team.  He can’t get me with that anymore, not after what happened to my brother.  “That used to work on me...when there were _three_ of us.”

"Oh, Jean--"

"No. After what happened to Julien, I don't want you anywhere near me. I meant that!" I felt my rage building after letting his name slip out of my mouth.

“You know that wasn’t s’posed to happen. Lookit me, Jean.” he stepped in front of me again, taking my arm.  I shoved him off.  The persistent bastard held his ground, right in my way.  “I know you’re pissed, but--lookit me! I’m just a kid. Even with all the money we’ve got, Julz still fucked up and got himself caught. It was outta my hands.”

The truth of the matter is that I had no idea what really happened.  He could be right, there might have been nothing he could've done about it, I just didn’t want to believe what everyone was saying about Julien, my big brother.  I didn’t want to believe that there was nothing anyone could do to help him.

“Hey, I have no doubt your parents’ll figure out something to get Julz outta the mess he’s in.” Kenny began again.  Yeah, right.  My parents are slowly but surely convincing themselves that Julien doesn't exist anymore.  He placed his hand on my shoulder.  "You oughta worry about yourself, in here. with all the shit you and Freckles have gotten yourselves into, there’s no way you’ll last much longer here on your own.”

“Marco and I are just fine.” I shoved his hand off, turning away from him and headed to sit on my bed.

“You can’t go the whole year protecting him all on your own, Jean. The bullies ain’t all that smart, but they know a weakling when they see one. That kid is dead weight.” he told me.  “But you know that, right? What, is there another reason you're keepin' him around? He’s gotta be pretty special if you let ‘im carry Snapper around...”

“Quit talkin’ like you know me. You don’t know anything!” I grew red around the cheeks.

“It’s only been a summer, Jean. I still know all there is to know about you.” he said.  His words were calm, even, but I still heard something aggressive and threatening in them.  He continued, much softly.  “And you know me. It’s why we gotta stick together, okay?”

I just stared at him, taking in everything he’s said this entire conversation.  I still didn’t trust him.  I still have my doubt about what happened to my brother last year.  However, I figured that now, if I wanted to get to the bottom of it, I had to let him a little closer.  “What’s in it for you?”

He cracked a smile, extending his arms.  “Why, you’re Julien’s little brother. How could I not offer my protection?”

When I didn't budge, he took my shoulders and yanked me into a quick hug.  It was tense, tight, and I could hardly breathe for the duration of it, but that was usually the reaction you got when receiving affection from Kenny Ackerman.  Usually, I wouldn't have a problem severing ties, but Kenny was different.  He and Julien were joined at the hip--when Julz was here--and he was something like an older brother to me, too.  I had no incriminating evidence against Kenny, I just wanted someone to be angry at that my brother was arrested. 

He pulled away and patted my shoulder.  "Y'know...I talked to 'im recently."

My eyes widened.  I hadn't spoken to Julien since the summer.  He said he would call me whenever he'd get a chance, but I never heard from him since then.  "Really? When? How is he? Why hasn't he called me?"

Kenny cracked a warm smile, the smile that used to put me at ease.  "Shit's pretty rough for 'im. He doesn't want you to worry."

That makes sense.  Julien was always like that.  He always made sure I was alright...even if he wasn't.  "I hope that idiot knows he's got a promise to keep."

"You should remind him." he gave me a nod.  I tilted my head at him, wondering how I would go about that.  He smiled again.  "I'm planning a way to get a hold of him again. Stick with me and you'll get to talk to him. Is it a deal?"

It was one hell of an ultimatum to me, honestly, no matter how close Kenny and I were in the past.  Although...I did miss my brother.  I have no idea if he's still in the same place he was during the summer.  It's only been a few months, but what if he's changed? This is the longest we've ever spent apart, after all.  I found myself nodding, and Kenny's smile growing bigger.  I couldn't tell what the sinking feeling in my stomach was, but as long as the promise of hearing from Julz was on the table, I had to ignore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly started to like Kenny Ackerman more than I thought I would. What are your thoughts? :)  
> Harass me on tumblr!


	5. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Protect Eren Jaeger at all costs!

Marco

 

After sleeping off what happened yesterday, I still felt pretty down about it...more accurately, I still felt pretty down about how I left Jean yesterday. He was just blowing off steam, but it still stung a bit. It wasn’t even a big deal, it just…

“Damn it…” I slapped my hands over my face. I knew it. It wasn’t Jean, or even what he said. It was me. My feelings for someone makes me hypersensitive to everything they say and do, and well...I think I might be starting to feel a certain way about Jean. I took deep, even breaths. This is the second time this happened to me, feeling this way about another guy, I mean. The first time, no matter how much I tried to ignore it, it escalated beyond my control, and got ugly. Jean and I are only just starting to become friends, there's no way I can let this happen.

Before I could even begin to over think things, however, there was a knock at my door. I immediately knew it was him. For a second, I thought about just laying in bed and not answering, but we live on the same floor, and if that wasn’t enough, he’d just pick my lock.

“Jean, I…” I began, opening the door. However, it wasn’t Jean. It was Kenny Ackerman, the boy who tried to introduce himself yesterday.

“Sorry I’m not who you’re hoping for.” he half smiled. I looked away, feeling my face heat up from embarrassment. “Anyway, have you eaten yet?”

“No, I…” I trailed off, wondering what time it was. I still haven’t plugged in that alarm clock.

“Lunch opens in a couple minutes. Care to join me?” he tilted his head. I’d honestly feel ten times more comfortable with Jean around, but I was pretty hungry, anyway. Once I’d gotten dressed and relatively presentable, I headed out of the Boys Dorm with Kenny. There was something about him that I noticed was pretty similar to Jean, and that was the way other kids reacted to seeing him. They didn’t bother him, some didn’t even look in his direction. It was as if he was invisible, but still had a presence.

“I meant to approach you way before, I just didn’t anticipate you and Jean getting so chummy.” he told me.

“And what about you two? He didn’t seem to like you too much yesterday.” I said.

“You’re right. Jean and I...have history.” he said with a light chuckle. My mind immediately jumped to the rumors everyone was giving me in Chemistry the other day. ' _History_ ', he says...

"Ended badly, huh?" I glanced off, trying to sound as aloof as possible even though I seriously wanted to know.

"Oh yeah, but that's all in the past." He simply said. I narrowed my eyes at him as he changed the subject. "Anyway, what about you? I never did get your name."

"M...Marco..." I said hesitantly. "Marco Bodt."

"You're tense, Marco Bodt. Think I'm gonna hurt ya?" Kenny smirked as we inched further along the cafeteria line.

"Can’t be too sure that you won't." I said matter-of-factly.

He laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "You're smart. Don't worry, I'm not out to get you."

"Then what are you after?" I asked.

"I just wanna get outta this hellhole as peacefully as possible. That too much to ask?" He told me.

"I'd say you're off to a good start." I mumbled.

"You think? Whys that?" He tilted his head, staring directly in my eyes.

"Well, I mean, none of the factions bother you. It's like you're invisible." I glanced off, grabbing a tray from the counter. He just smiled, picking up a tray as well.

"I think maybe you and Jean are goin' about surviving here the wrong way." He said, watching the lunch ladies plop meatloaf on our trays. "The only thing the Garrison respects is power. You won't be left alone until you prove you shouldn't be messed with."

"I'm just one guy..." I shrugged, shuffling along the lunchline.

"Don't be ridiculous. It'll take time, but we can take this school." He assured me.

I picked up my tray and headed out of the line to follow him to a table. Did he say _we_? What did he even mean by taking the school? I couldn't give that much more thought, though, because I saw Jean Kirschstein sitting alone at the lunch table, sadly picking at his food. Kenny took a seat right in front of him at the table. Jean set his fork down and rested those hazel eyes on me.

"Hey." He solemnly greeted me. His knuckles had bandages on them from yesterday, and a couple new small bruises were on his arms. I wanted to hold his aching hands, but all I did was sit next to him. He frowned, staring at the floor. "Look, I...sorry about yesterday, I was just..."

"I know, Jean. You're right, though. I shouldn't be so eager to trust people." I told him. Something about that made his expression even sadder, but he didn't say another word.

"Yeah, it might actually take longer than I thought to get 'I'm to trust me!" Kenny cut in. Honestly, who is this guy and why hasn't Jean insulted him or his clothes yet? What did he want? He seemed to notice my side eye and continued talking. “I mean, you’ll have to, y’know. We’re a team now.”

“Huh?” I looked over at Jean, who just rested his face on his palm, poking his fork into his tray. I was suddenly beginning to regret walking out on Jean yesterday, since I apparently missed the new addition. Kenny flashed me a smile and opened his juice box. “You, me, and Jeany-boy are a team. We’re gonna look out for eachother and get these factions under control.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I blinked, not liking how calm Jean was about all this.

“Means we gotta show these bastards who’s boss. Thomas, Armin, Krista, Ymir, and Reiner. We’re the ones who’re gonna run things around here soon enough.” Kenny went on.

“Hey, don’t get too carried away, alright? I ain’t tryna be no king of the school or anything.” Jean waved his hand dismissively.

“Of course, Jean, it’s just an expression, y’know? C’mon, don’t be such a grouch.” Kenny reached over to pinch Jean on the nose. Of course, Jean slapped his hand away, but I couldn’t help but notice the small smile on his face. It made me want to know more about this _history_ Kenny says they share.

“So, how d’you propose we get Thomas under control? Let alone every other bigshot here?” I folded my arms, diffusing their little moment.

Right after my question, the bell rang, and students began shuffling all over the cafeteria. Kenny stood up and picked up his tray, not taking his eyes off me for a second.  “You just leave the thinking up to me, Freckles.”

With that, he left, and Jean casually stood up to take his tray to the trash. I just scoffed, grabbing my things to get ready to leave. Jean waited for me at the door, and from his averted eyes, he already knew that I didn’t like the sound of Kenny Ackerman one bit.

“ _I’m_ too trusting, but the first guy you let into our circle is _him_?” Jean closed his eyes and held his hands up.

“Look, he does seem a little sketchy, but I know him, alright?”

“Yeah. Heard you guys have _history_.” I scoffed, heading out of the cafeteria. Jean’s eyebrows arched, and my stomach dropped a little at the expression. I was making myself too obvious.

“Curious, Bodt?” I ignored the unsettling feeling in my gut and tried to be casual about it.

“Maybe a little.”

“It used to be me, him, and my big brother lookin’ out for eachother. But some stuff happened and they took ‘im away.” Jean said.

“What happened?” I said softly. “That’s what I’m tryna find out. Kenny’s the only one who could know.” Jean shrugged. Oh. The history they really had was something much deeper than what I was thinking. “So...will ya just bear with me while I figure this out? Nothing changes with us. You and me are still solid, alright?”

I felt the smile pulling at the corners of my lips and just looked away with a nod. Seeing that I understood, he nodded too. He took a step back and was about to declare his leave, so I had to say one last thing.

“You don’t have to figure it out on your own...I mean, I’ll help you...” Those piercing hazel eyes just blinked at me, and I knew he was just taking time to process my words, but the silence was slowly making me wish I’d never said such a corny thing. Thankfully, a distraction diffused the moment.

“Excuse me,” a voice called. We both looked over, seeing Mikasa Ackerman standing with a rather nervous Armin Arlert.

“Armin…” I blinked, a little surprised to have him talking to us. “You sure gotta a lotta nerve showing your face to us after the shit you pulled yesterday, coconut-head.” Jean growled.

“His name is Armin and you will address him as such, Kirschstein.” Mikasa said firmly.

“I’ll make this short,” Armin began, eyeing Jean’s death glare. He dug through his backpack and pulled out a school folder. “This is for your trouble yesterday.” I took the folder from his hands and opened it, seeing two five page reports on The Crucible and Lord of the Flies, double-spaced and in MLA format.

As Jean took his copy and stuffed it into his backpack, he softened his glare.  “Fine. We’re all good, Arlert. You were smart in bringin’ Mikasa along with you in case I wanted to rip you a new one.”

“I came on my own accord.” Mikasa’s eyebrow twitched, giving Jean a look that dared him to try it. Armin gave a nervous smile and held his hand to Mikasa’s arm.

“Well, that’s good to hear. We should all get going before the late bell rings, huh?” Armin hurried through the halls, and Mikasa gave us one last stare before going to catch up with the blonde.

“And you thought he wouldn’t care about what we did for him.” I grinned at Jean.

“Just ‘cause he wants to stay on our good side doesn’t mean he gives a shit. He knows he’s gonna need us again at some point, I know it.” Jean snorted. I just smiled and shook my head.

* * *

 

After class, I headed to the Boy’s Dorm common room to wait for Jean to get back. I sat there, watching basic cable on an old TV and sitting on the side of the couch with less questionable stains on it. Not too long ago, I was terrified of being left alone in this place, but now that I have Jean, I feel a lot more comfortable.

Jean.

He protects me from the bullies, and if by some chance they manage to get their hands on me, he tends to my wounds before his own. When we’re not together, like right now, he lets me hold onto his precious slingshot, Snapper, just in case I run into trouble and he’s not around. He has no idea about the weird, confusing thoughts I have about him in my head, and I hope to keep it that way. I can’t ruin our friendship and everything he’s done for me so far with those thoughts. So what if I still haven’t cleared up the rumors of his sexuality? It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t even go there.

“C’mon, Jean…” I mumbled after a drawn out sigh. My overthinking gets awfully bad when I’m left alone.

“Marco!” a voice burst into the Boy’s Dorm.  It wasn't the voice I was hoping for, and that piqued my interest on what they could want.

“GIRL!” a boy shrieked, causing the common areas to grow rowdier for whatever reason. Through the chaos, I turned around on the couch, seeing Mikasa walk further into the dorm, holding her hand to her crinkled nose. "What died in here..?"

“Mikasa?” I blinked, a little more surprised I was used to the stench of this dorm than actually seeing her here.

“Listen, I…” she began, but paused, glancing back and forth. “I...need your help…”

“What’s wrong?” I tilted my head. She looked up at me with a hint of relief, like she could actually trust me.

“It’s Eren. He went to the autoshop to get some supplies for a project and hasn’t come back. I offered to go with him, but he refused my company. Stubborn idiot…” she huffed, glancing off. “I fear Thomas and his boys got to him.”

“What’s that got to do with us?” Mikasa and I glanced toward the end of the common room, seeing Kenny and Jean make their way toward us. Of course, I was happy to see Jean, but not with him, least of all, _together_.

“Why can’t you go save ‘im?” Jean asked.

“I would, but I’m on thin ice as of late with the admins…” she mumbled irritably. “I know Eren won’t go down easily, but that’s gonna be what kills him one day, I know it. Please, check things out for me.”

“Sure, Mikasa.” I nodded before Jean could vehemently decline.

He jerked his head to me with his mouth agape. "'Scuse me, Bodt, I ain't running off to save some crazy nerd to ease your conscious!"

"We made amends earlier today, didn’t we? This favor is on our new slate." Mikasa insisted. "Come on. Eren stood up for me the other day in Chemistry. I owe him this." I told him.

“He did, did he?” Kenny nodded, folding his arms. “Y’know, this could be just what we need to show Thomas who’s boss. If Eren really is in trouble and we save ‘im, the nerds gotta ally with us. Those are our terms.”

“Granted.” Mikasa nodded.

“Fuck me.” Jean rolled his eyes and groaned so loud, I couldn't help but smile since I knew he wouldn't let me go alone. If it was anything kids at the Garisson put any sort of honor in, it was a favor.

“Hey! Ackerman! You’re supposed to be on punishment duty!” a TA wandered into the Boys Dorm after seeing the door wide open. Startled, Mikasa bolted toward the common room window. The TA charged into the common room to chase after her. To avoid being pulled into it, the three of us migrated elsewhere.

“You guys go ahead and help that Jaeger kid.” Kenny said.

“And what’re you gonna do?” Jean asked, folding his arms. “With this new alliance on our hands, I got some planning ahead to do. Don’t worry about it, alright? Get going before they put ‘im into a coma.” he shooed us away. I didn’t have time to really question Kenny and what he was really doing at the moment.

 

I briskly made my way toward the autoshop with Jean trailing behind me, grumbling about all the reasons we should leave this alone. "Did I not just say earlier that they wanted us on their side for shit like this? Sooner or later, they'd need us, and the nerve of those bastards pulling this sooner! Shit, you'd think those nerds would send some of their guys to help us out..." He scoffed.

I shrugged. "Oh, didn't think you needed help, Jean."

"I don't." He said roughly. "Just sayin'...they coulda offered..."

"With Mikasa and Eren both out of the way, there's no way the others feel confident enough to help." I told him.

He paused, looking at me. "Lookit you, you know how all this works now, don't you?"

"Imagine if I didn't have you." I offered him a small smile. I knew he wanted to say something clever or atleast do a better job of not smiling back, but the most he could do was look away and shove his slingshot in my hands.

"Here, you're a better shot than me and you'd probably do good job of keeping the lot of 'em at a distance since you can't throw a punch to save your ass..."

“Is that Jean-speak for ‘be careful’?” I smirked, picking up a few rocks. He just glared at me with that childish pout and close-knit eyebrows.  I couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction. I felt a sudden knot in my stomach when I realized what I was just doing.

_‘Stop it, Marco, stop flirting with him before he realizes you’re flirting with him..!’_ I scolded myself, gripping Snapper tightly in my hands. All of a sudden, he took off running toward the auto garage. Eren Jaeger was shoved into a trash can by Thomas' boys, getting relentlessly beaten on.

"C'mon, Marco!"

I clutched his slingshot, following Jean and making sure to keep more than he can handle on his own off of his back.

"Give that back, you bastard!" Eren shouted, trying his hardest to wriggle out of the trash can. He was surrounded by four bigger boys, laughing and taunting. Two on either side, one brunette, one bald, and two in front of him, one black-haired and the other red haired. The redhead was dangling something in front of Eren, probably what got him in trouble in the first place. I watched as Jean effortlessly came up behind the two in front and yanked them by the scruff of their shirts clocked their heads together before the other two could notice. They banged heads, stunned for a second, giving Jean enough time to pull Eren from the trash can.

"You gotta fuckin' death wish, undercut?!" The black-haired boy shouted upon seeing two of his friends on the ground.

"Ooh, too much pressure to think up a better name?" Jean gave a smug smirk. The boy growled, picking up an old wooden bat from the trash heap. Jean immediately faltered. "Oh shit..."

The other bullies grabbed Jean to hold him down and this was my cue to help. "Ah jeez..." I mumbled, prepping the slingshot to fire at the boy Jean just _had_ to say something about. He was about to swing the bat, and I fired, just hoping my attack would come first.

"Agh!" one shrieked as a rock pelted him right in the head.

Wow, I really _am_ good. He crashed to the ground, dropping the bat. Before Eren could be grabbed again, he got a hold of the bat and started screaming and swinging. "Give me back the key! Give it back!"

"H-Hey! Watch who you're swinging at, asshole!" Jean flinched as one of the bullies were knocked into the trash heap.

"W-We won't forget you helping those nerds, Kirschstein!" The last two bullies scurried away. They darted right past me, probably not even noticing I was apart of all this. I looked over at Jean, who was glaring at Eren as if he was going to fight him.

"Y'know, a thank you would be nice to hear." Jean began.

"I didn't ask for your help." Eren told him, looking around the trash. Although he appeared to be looking for something, he didn't look like he was paying Jean any attention, which of course pissed him off.

"You didn't, but your friends did." Jean grabbed Eren's shoulder and spun him around.

"So what! You ever stop to think that maybe I didn’t need help? Get your head outta your ass, horse face!" Eren slapped Jean's hand off of him.

I approached the two hotheads, knowing what was coming next was pointless. I stood between them and held my hands up.  "Alright guys, it's over. We can just go our separate ways and once Mikasa sees Eren in one piece, he can thank us later."

"I am never gonna get the stench of trash off of my clothes because of this mess!" Jean pinched his school sweater.

"Doesn't smell any different from when I normally see you, so I don't owe you shit!" Eren scoffed.

"I'll deliver you back to Mikasa in a _body bag_ , you hear me?!" Jean snarled, possibly more upset that he just walked right into a "you always stunk” joke. I got him in a bear hug and dragged him away from Eren. Being taller and having a few extra pounds on him proved an advantage.

"This whack job needs to thank me and apologize. You were getting your ass handed to you before we showed up, anyway!" Jean jabbed his finger at the other boy.

"And if I didn't grab that bat, you would have, too!" Eren shot back.

"Where's the bat now? I'll show ya how to use it!" Jean just squirmed in my grip.

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Let it go, Jean."

"Ah! I found it. Thank god." Eren perked up. I looked over my shoulder and saw him cradling a key on a chain in his hand. He let out a breath, finally calming down, and looked over at the two of us. "Thanks, Marco." He gave a nod, prompting Jean to give him the most twisted scowl his face could make.

"Well...that was...y'know, for the other day." I shrugged. He just nodded, studying Jean and I for a bit. He shoved his keychain in his pocket and folded his arms, considering.

“Y’know, since Mikasa and Armin both came to you for help, I suppose it means they saw you as someone we could trust.” he said. I glanced over at Jean, who was still glaring at Eren with narrowed eyes.

“ _Trust_? The most Armin’s ever said to me before that day was to throw him some TP during bathroom break.” I scratched at my temple.

“It doesn’t mean we haven’t been watching you.” Eren told me, causing me to inch back a bit. Both Jean and Eren caught on to the fact that I was creeped out, and reacted accordingly.

“Just what the hell are you tryna say here, you freak?” Jean folded his arms, stepping in front of me.

Eren scowled and sidestepped further into my direction. “Well, _Marco_ , what I mean is...I think you're alright. You obviously want to put an end to the factions, right? Us too!"

"I never said that. All I want is to get through the school year without almost being beaten up." I told him.

"Well, it's been a week or so you've been here, and Thomas hasn't gotten that message." Eren said. I sighed, knowing my resistance was only making things worse, with both Thomas and this conversation. Eren continued. "Given the fact that we joined forces against the bullies twice already, we should make our alliance official."

"Don't worry, we're way ahead of you with that one." Jean folded his arms, still not liking the idea.  Hearing him say that made me want to correct him and say Kenny was the one who came up with this, but that would've only emphasized my distrust for that kid, and I didn't want to bring that up to Jean just yet.

"I know you've come to depend on Horseface as your muscle, but now that you're with us, you'll be protected by Mikasa! She's way stronger and easier to deal with!" Eren called to me as Jean shoved him along.

"And where was she today when you got your ass shoved in a trash can?!" Jean huffed as Eren went on his way. He flipped Jean off and waved to me, encouraging me one more time to consider him and the others as friends. I didn't want to get sucked into whatever hierarchy madness this school operated on. My goal here was to just make it through the year without getting into too much trouble...but here I am, acting as some kind of hit man to a lesser gang while simultaneously pissing off another. We were already halfway back to the boys dorm when I finally noticed how uncharacteristically quiet Jean Kirschstein had been.

"Hey, Eren didn't get on your nerves that bad, did he?" I nudged him. He seemed to snap out of his silence and finally speak.

"He didn't get on yours? Little shit..." After a laugh, I handed Snapper back to him. He carefully placed the slingshot into his pocket and set his hand on my arm, setting my senses on fire for a brief moment.

“Hey, I dunno what Kenny’s planning with this whole playing nice with the nerds thing, but I...I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, alright?” At that moment, I was incredibly glad Jean was staring down at the ground instead of looking at me and how red my face must’ve gotten. I didn’t want to make things more awkward for us, so I had to say something.

“Y-Yeah. I got it. You and me are the real team.”

Finally, he nodded and let out a breath. “Yeah. You and me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly my least favorite chapter. I hope you liked it more than me, though! Next week will start to get way better :)


	6. Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco freaks out, gets stoned, and tells all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna tag this later, but there are some homophobic slurs featured this chapter, as well as marijuana. I don't know how many of you might feel about it, so just a warning!

 

Jean

 

Just who did I think I was, making promises to protect dopey freckled angels, anyway? Hell if I knew.  I wasn’t about to take it back, though.  I just...had to protect Marco.  When he told me that I was right about not trusting people, it honestly bummed me out a little.  He has such a kind heart, and I didn’t want this place to tarnish his innocence.  The guy may have grown on me a little…

He, Kenny and I were all in the common room.  Next to the TV, the arcade machine was the only thing there that miraculously wasn’t busted, so Marco was playing on that, I was on the couch watching paternity test TV, and Kenny was sitting at a table in a corner on his phone.  Although, I would glance away from the television every once in a while to check up on Marco.  He was wasn’t a very talkative guy, but he was really quiet today.  All that came from behind the couch was the random beeps and screeches from the game he was playing.  I wanted to call out to him, but there was something about him at this moment in time said that he didn’t want to be bothered.  Besides that, things were relatively calm for a moment, until the jocks walked in.  I slowly sat up on the couch as Reiner Braun, Bertholdt Hoover, and Connie Springer strolled into the common room.  Kenny still had his phone to his face, but looked up as they approached Marco.

“Aw, Bertl, looks like someone’s playin’ your favorite game.” Reiner hummed.

“It’s that new nerd my roommate hangs out with.” Connie scoffed.  Marco just ignored them and kept playing his game, which more or less started to irk them.  Bertholdt frowned a little, then shrugged.

“Whatever. It stinks in here more than usual anyway.”

“I think he’s beating your high score, Bertl.” Reiner tilted his head, squinting at the bright screen.

“What!? W-Well, don’t just _let_ ‘im!” Bertholdt immediately became frantic.  My eyebrows furrowed at how important this seemed to be for him.

“Hear that, bozo? Give someone else a turn.” Connie came closer.  I know, why haven’t I stepped up and defended Marco yet? I wanted to, it’s just...he didn’t even turn around.  He didn’t acknowledge them at all.  Reiner huffed, folding his arms and growing impatient.  Realizing this, Connie gave Marco a hard shove.  “I know you hear me!”

That was when I got up, but before I could do or say anything, however, Marco spun around and pushed Connie hard, sending him crashing onto the floor.  The room was silent, save for the sound effects from Marco losing his game.

“Huh.” Reiner stared Marco down.

“My score is safe…” Bertholdt sighed to himself.  Kenny was surprisingly on his feet, mouth agape in shock of what just happened.  Marco’s eyes had this fierce, almost scary look about them.  I didn’t like it at all. There was no way I was going to let Marco piss off the most powerful clique in school...not alone, anyway.

“You little pissant!” Connie scrambled to his feet, not about to be shown up in front of Reiner.  Marco just watched him, daring him to make another move.  Connie was too stupid to realize that something was wrong with Marco, so I had to intervene before anything else happened.

“Jean, wait--” Kenny tried to stop me, but I wasn’t about to listen.  I grabbed Connie by the jacket of his track suit and yanked him away from Marco and back with the other two Jocks.

“Knock it off, Connie.”

Reiner glanced at Connie, then back at us.  “You’re a bold couple of pricks, aren’t you?”

“No one’s fucking scared of you, or your band of morons, Reiner.” I stepped in front of Marco, backed up against the arcade machine.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that, asshole.” Connie huffed, growing more agitated by the second.

“And you’re gonna wish we hadn’t caught you in forbidden territory the other day, or did you and Reiner already have a talk about that?” I inched closer to him.  His threatening posture immediately faltered.  Yes, Marco and I made a deal with Sasha and Connie to put what we saw behind us after our little exchange, but things were getting a little too intense.

“The hell is he talking about, Connie?” Reiner cocked an eyebrow.

“He’s just talkin’ outta his ass.” Connie scoffed, turning away from us.

“Yes, yes, and I think this calls for all of us to just simmer down and let this go. We’re just wasting time at this point, don’t you think?” Kenny finally stepped in.  His words seemed to pacify the jocks somewhat, and they stepped back.

“Yeah, I’m bored now, Reiner.” Bertholdt nudged the burly blonde.  Reiner wanted to address the problem, but once Bertholdt started to leave the common room, he just gave us one last stare and trailed him out.  Connie fed me a glare, and I knew to steer clear of my room while he was in there for a while.  Once the common room was left with just us, I turned to Marco, who was staring down at the floor, visibly unsettled.

“Hey,” I said softly, but he still flinched.  I didn’t want to make a big deal out of seeing it, so I continued.  “You alright?”

“I’m fine. I need some water.” he answered, passing me to exit the room.  There was no eye contact.  Why couldn’t he look at me?

“Don’t let ‘em see you on your own.” I called, to which he responded with a dismissive wave.  I was putting up a front that everything was just fine, but Marco knew that I saw a side to him that I wasn’t used to...something told me that maybe he wasn’t used to that side of him, either.

“Jean…what the fuck…” Kenny held his head.  I was about to agree with him and express my concern for Marco, but when I looked and saw the smirk on his face, my only concern was for whatever was going on in his head.  “Did you see that? Y’know, I take back what I said about him bein’ deadweight.”

“Kenny,” I blinked, having a gut feeling of what he was on about.

“He literally just flung an athlete across the room. He's been holding out on us!"

“Relax, alright? Connie runs track, he’s like seventy pounds.” I rolled my eyes.

“And Marco was only _slightly_ irritated.” Kenny held a finger in the air.  “All that pacifist bullshit he's known for is just a front. He’s a fighter, Jean! We just gotta figure out how to bring it outta him.”

“No!” I said firmly.  Kenny looked up at me, genuinely confused at what I was getting so worked up over.  “I’m not bringing anything outta him, alright? Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not who he is.”

Kenny narrowed his eyes at me and scoffed.  “Oh, and you know exactly who he is, huh? I bet you still don’t have a clue what he did to get himself thrown in here, do you?”

This motherfucker.  He was absolutely right...but that doesn’t change anything about Marco or how I feel about him.  Sure, I always wondered, but it just never came up...that, or Marco just never wanted to talk about it.  Marco did only address this sort of thing once.

"I...I dunno I guess sometimes I just snap..."

I folded my arms, focusing my attention back on Kenny.  “And what, you do?”

“No, but I got an idea.” he smirked, just before heading out of the common room.  Once he left, I just remembered that Marco never came out of the bathroom.  I exited the lounge and wandered into the hallway.  His room was close to the bathroom, so I knocked on his room instead.

He opened the door, books in hand.  “Hey, Jean.”

“Hey...you...you never came back from the bathroom…” I rubbed the back of my neck, starting to feel stupid for going after him like this.  He gave a small smile, and I swear, he could tell I was embarrassed. "Alright, that sounded a little weird to say, but y'know...I mean..."

At that, Marco giggles. Fucking giggles. “I know what you mean, weirdo. Yeah, class for me starts soon, so...I’m okay, though, really.”

That was good to hear.  I had no time to debate with him on how much I believed it, though, so I changed the subject.  “What class?”

“Art.” he frowned.

“You mind your tone, freckles. Mike is the coolest teacher on campus. C’mon, I’m goin’ to class with you.”

“Wait a minute,” he stopped.  “What class are you supposed to be in?”

“Gym.” I scowled.

“Jean, how exactly are you doing in that class again? It’s a requirement to graduate, y’know.” he said as we headed for the exit together.

“Which is fucking stupid.” I grumbled.  I hated PE with a passion, not to mention I wanted to keep my eye on Marco.  After what happened just now, and how he seemed to be ignoring it, I didn’t want to leave him alone.  Distracted by his laughter, I stopped walking near the gate entrance of the boy’s dorm.

“C’mon, you skipped it last time. If you don’t pass it, you’ll just have to take it again.” he said.  He was right.  He didn’t even know that I did in fact fail gym last year and this was a repeat.  One year of PE was required for graduation, but good lord, I hated it so much.  I looked up at those big stupid brown eyes, relieved that they were actually the ones I knew, and not the strange ones from earlier.

“Fine.” I huffed. He's not a baby...maybe he didn't need me hovering. He flashed me a warm smile.  I handed Snapper to him...just in case. “Here.”

He extended his hand and placed it over mine.  My eyes widened a little, and my eyes darted toward his.  His smile fell a bit, and he averted his eyes, finally taking the slingshot.  “Th-Thanks. See you later, okay?”

He spun around and hurried to class, tripping and stumbling over his own feet.  Honestly, what a fucking dork...but at the same time, what warm hands.

* * *

One of the many reasons I hate gym is not only does every curriculum completely treat individual body types and physical stamina as exactly the same, but those students who actually do meet physical education’s standards--the Jocks--get to do pretty much whatever they want in and out of the gym.  They unfortunately like to spend most of their time here or on the football field, terrorizing other students and just generally being annoying as hell.  I spent most of my ninety minutes in class brooding on the bleachers in a tacky gym uniform, and luckily, I only had only a few more minutes left of it.

“Jean," a voice called. I sat up straight, cracking my back in a manner I hope no one else heard. It was Mikasa, and from her arched eyebrows, she did hear. "I just wanted to thank you for protecting Eren yesterday."

"Even if the little shit won't thank me himself, I'll accept your thanks. Makes us friends now, in a way I guess." I shrugged, starting to feel a certain way about this. I only dreamed of talking to Mikasa like this. Before this, gym was usually spent admiring her destroy every activity in those snug-fitting gym clothes. Now that Kenny made us "allies", I don't seem to care too much. I just wanted to get back to Marco.

Mikasa handed me a roll of bandages and antiseptic. "Here. This should last you a while so you don't have to sneak into the girls bathroom and steal tampons from the dispensary."

"Huh! You're probably the only one who knows what I actually do with those..." I grumbled, almost forgetting I wasn't as careful as I thought when I do that. I cleared my throat and looked away. "Thanks..."

"We're allies now. Don't mention it." She nodded.  Suddenly, I caught a small crowd of students shuffling toward the double doors, which was odd, because class isn’t over until Coach Shadis blows the whistle.  Mikasa noticed that I was distracted and turned, seeing other kids spectating.  One kid from the prep faction was coming from outside, possibly to warn his friends to come watch whatever was going on.  I hopped off the bleachers and in front of him, causing him to immediately raise his guard.

“Hey, what’s happening outside?” I glanced toward the double doors.  He just eyed me up and down, a little offended that I was talking to him, but proceeded to smirk.  

“What a rabble! You of all people don’t know, Kirschstein?”

It was a mystery to me how I was involved with the preps for as long as I was back then, they’re so fucking pretentious.  “The fuck is that s’posed to mean?”

“Daz called your precious freckled friend a queer and he goes ballistic! It’s hilarious.” he snorted a little.  Marco.  I should’ve skipped this stupid class.  I should’ve gone with him.  I know I should’ve been headed outside by now, but this kid I used to be affiliated with...he knows how I feel about these slurs...and to have him talk about Marco like he was some deranged animal just set me off.

“Just what about that is hilarious, you ignorant fuck tank?” I grabbed his collar.

“Jean!” Mikasa called, snapping me out of my rage for a split second.  “Forget him. Help Marco!”

My shitty informant shoved off of me and adjusted his collar.  “Freckles and Ponyboy better watch themselves. You guys pissed off Thomas, now you’re pushing Reiner’s buttons...don’t make me bring this up to Christa.”

No matter how badly I wanted to kick his kid’s teeth in, he was right.  Marco and I need to get off the radar, and quickly.  Even if Kenny could help, there’s no way we can handle all the stronger factions on our own.

“Where the hell d’you all think you’re going!? Class ain’t over you little shits! Get back in here! I want three laps around the gym, non-stop from all of you!” Coach Shadis finally made his way onto the court.

“I’ll distract him. Go ahead, Jean.” Mikasa nodded just before running toward Coach.  I headed outside, turning my head to see what she would do.  She--purposefully--bumped into him and dramatically fell to the ground.

“Wha--!? What the fuck are you doing, Ackerman!?” Shadis screamed.

She rubbed her head and tried getting up.  “Sorry, sir. There’s just so much commotion--ah..!” she fell right back to the ground, grabbing her ankle.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Shadis gave her his full attention.  Get Mikasa Ackerman an oscar.  So much for her being an emotionless robot.

Once I made it out of the double doors and pushed through the crowd of screaming kids, I couldn’t believe my eyes.  It was true.  Marco against Dazz, and Marco wasn’t backing down.  I flinched as Marco delivered a hard, wind-knocking punch to Daz’s chest, sending him crashing to the ground and causing a roar of hoots and hollers from onlookers.

“I ain’t scared of you...you piece of shit..!” Dazz wheezed, trying to scramble to his feet.  “You fuckin’--QUEER!”

There it was again, that look in Marco’s eyes, the one that made stomach drop with worry.  I had to push through the savage cheering, I had to get to him before this reaches the admins.  He just ripped a aluminum bat from a Jock’s hands and was seriously about to wail on Dazz, who just lay helplessly on the ground.

“Marco, stop!” I shouted, causing everyone in the vicinity to stop and stare.  I had shout as loud as I could, over the other kids, I had to snap him out of this.   “Marco! Hey, listen to me!”

I hopped in front of him, grabbing his arms.  I managed to stop him mid swing.  Once he felt my grip on him, he immediately stopped moving.  He dropped the bat, and his face began to turn pale once he realized everyone staring at him.

“Aw, what the fuck!” a kid in the distance shouted, causing the rest of them to grumble in disappointment.

“Marco, listen to me,” I ignored them, kicking the bat elsewhere.  His big brown eyes scattered all over the place, as if he was completely new to these surroundings.  Dazz scrambled to his feet and took off running.

“You’ll regret this, shitbag!”

Marco began to shake his head.  “No...it happened again, didn’t it..?”

“Hey…” my hands slid from his arms to his shoulders.  He jerked away from me, looking completely frightened, and ran off.  The bystanders, mostly non-clique students, parted the crowd to let him through. Without hesitation, I took off running after him. I figured I was faster and would catch up to him with ease, but those damn long legs put me at a disadvantage. To make things worse, I bumped into admins at the worst possible time. Principal Erwin Smith and Vice Principal Levi Ackerman stumbled out of a secluded area of the parking lot, cautiously checking their surroundings. Once they laid eyes on me, they immediately became hostile.

"Shit." I grunted, not sure whether to run in the opposite direction tell them that I'm in a hurry.

"Where're you off to in such a rush, haircut?" Levi straightened his tie. I knew I should answer right away, but I was a little too distracted by how hostile Levi was being, and at Erwin fixing his hair and tie.

"Uhh..."

"I don't remember that being anywhere on campus." He tilted his head, though he hardly gave me any time to respond in the first place.

"I-I'm just headed to my room...I gotta take a dump real bad..." I bounced in place. Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say to 'Poop-Jokes' Ackerman, but I wasn't thinking.  Before he could say anything else, all four of the Garrison’s TAs dashed through the parking lot toward the outside of the gym where I just was.  Unsettled by the sight of all of them at once, Mr. Smith headed in that direction as well.

“He isn’t doing anything, Levi. Let’s go.”

Vice Principal Ackerman watched as his boss trailed the TAs through the campus and finally stepped back, setting his sights on me for the last time before walking in that direction as well.  Seeing he and the Principal like this was strange, but I couldn’t  bother with it right now.  I tried to keep a low profile the rest of the way to the Boy’s Dorm.

The dorm was relatively empty, possibly because a lot of them are being apprehended or running from admins right now.  I knew for a fact that Marco was here.  I didn’t even bother knocking, I reached for the doorknob and turned, only to find out it was locked.  I fished a pin from my pocket and got to work.

This situation just made me realize just how little I knew about Marco.  Where did that temper come from? It’s as if he’s a completely different person when he’s pissed off.  He scared _me_ a little.  Now that he wasn’t saying anything behind this locked door, it was making me even more nervous.

“Marco…” I finally let myself in.

“You’ve _got_ to stop doing that.”

He was sitting in the middle of his bed, all curled up in a ball, holding his head.  My heart sank a little.  It shouldn’t have come to this.  I should’ve watched him closer.  

“I...I didn’t hurt ‘im, did I? I just...Jean, I…” he shook his head, desperately trying to explain himself.  I shut the door behind me and locked it.  He watched me with those frantic eyes.  I wondered if it was me he was afraid of, or himself.  I didn’t give a shit.  I had to get Marco back to himself again.

“I dunno how to begin to tell you, Jean...when I get like that--not that I get like that often, I just...it’s not me. Y-You believe me, right?” he stammered, his fingers still tangled in his mussed hair.  

"You don't owe me an explanation." I sat next to him, taking hold of those hands that desperately wanted to rip his hair out and placed them on my lap.  Those big brown eyes met mine, then looked away.  He was still too wigged out.  There was a number of ways I wanted to comfort him, but I couldn’t begin to act on them without seriously freaking him out.

“Hey, know what? I should spend the night here.” I gently squeezed his hands, breaking the silence.  I knew he would refuse, not wanting to trouble me with looking out for him, so I stopped him before he would say anything of the sort, cracking a joke.  “I mean, Connie’ll probably bludgeon me in my sleep after what happened today, ya know? You don’t mind, right?”

After a moment of consideration, he squeezed my hand right back.  “Yeah. I mean, no, I don’t mind.”

“Cool. Wait here, alright? I got somethin’ for you.” I slid off his bed, finally letting go of those warm hands.

I heard a tiny chuckle come from him as I actually ran out of the room.  When I opened the door to my room, I thanked every deity known to man that Connie wasn’t there.  I quickly grabbed my shower bag, backpack, yanked open my dresser for some pajamas, and dug through my underwear drawer, searching for a particular sock.  Once I’d gotten my favorite pair of socks, I rushed out of my bedroom and headed back to Marco’s room.

“Back.” I burst into his room, throwing my backpack on his floor and shutting his bedroom door.  He was still pretty jumpy, and had his hands right back at tugging at his hair.  “Marco, have you ever smoked before?”

He shook his head, watching as I stuck my hand in the socks from my room.  I pulled out the bag of weed I scored from Sasha the other day. Once he laid eyes on it, he began to freak out again.

"Whoa, hey, what're you doing with that?"

"Relax, this is gonna help you." I assured him.

"Listen, drugs just aren't my thing, okay?" He kept shaking his head.

"This is hardly a drug." I snorted. "This won't hurt you."

Instead of really listening to me, he seemed to be focused on getting himself to stop shaking. I crawled onto his bed, sitting in front of him, my hands taking his from his hair again.

"Marco, listen to me." I placed his hands in my lap. I finally had his attention. Still struggling to breathe normally, he just stared into my eyes, as if I was his only hope at calming down. "You're gonna be fine. I'll take care of you."

I had a habit of saying really sappy shit at times like these, but damn it, there wasn't much of anything else I could think to say. This was what I felt and I needed him to know that. He held his hands to my lap and nodded. Without further delay, I got started.

I grabbed my bowl and lighter from my bookbag and gave it to Marco to hold.  He seemed to calm down a little as his attention was directed at watching me place a nug of weed into the bowl and break it down a little.  My brother was very much into legalizing marijuana; when he was around and the bad days got the best of us, heavy smoke sessions was how he would numb the pain.  I wasn’t used to it at all at first, but after a while, the sensation of being high all night grew on me.  I gave him an empty roll of toilet paper and a rubber band to hold.

“What’s this?” he tilted his head.  I pulled a fresh dryer sheet from my backpack and handed it to him.

“Put the sheet over the roll and keep the rubber band tied to it. Masks the smell.” I instructed.  He did as I said, eyes widened with newfound knowledge.

I placed the flame in the bowl and my thumb on the hole, inhaling deeply. I felt Marco's curious eyes on me and tried my hardest not to smile. After a few seconds, I exhaled into the paper roll. I handed the bowl to him. He nervously held it in his hands, unsure of what to do. His anxiety still had his hands a little shaky.

"Here, I’ll light for you, you just relax." I hummed. After flicker of the lighter, he inhaled deeper than he should, and doubled over in a coughing fit. I laughed a little and sat next to him, patting his back and handing him bottled water. After gulping some down, he shook his head.

"No way. I'm not built for that stuff."

"One more. Just...a little easier this time." I offered with a smile.  He glanced away and let me have another hit before taking it again.  As he--more carefully--inhaled, he exhaled into the paper roll.  “Try to let it settle in your lungs before exhaling...you’ll get it.” I shrugged.  He smiled a little, handing the bowl back to me.  I was just glad he was calming down.

Soon enough, the bag was halfway finished, and I was so glad I was smart enough to remember snacks, because there was no way either of us were moving. The ceiling fan was going--just in case the paper roll wasn’t enough--and the two of us were just laying next to eachother on his bed, staring at it go in circles.

"I'm sorry I ran. I just...I couldn't deal with how you might see me right then." Marco began. "I thought you'd hate me."

"Why the hell would I hate you?" My eyebrows furrowed. _How_ the hell could I hate him?

"I just...what if you saw me as some kinda bipolar freak? I snap and do crazy shit and can't remember doing it afterward..." He said. I blinked slowly, watching the ceiling fan circle around.  Marco didn’t usually swear, so I couldn’t help but take it seriously.

"This happened before, huh?"

"Yeah." He sighed lowly. "I...it's a long story."

With how slow time was going right now, I just nodded. "I got time."

Honestly, I can't even remember how we got this way, sprawled out on his bed like this. I didn't mind, either...his head resting so close to mine, his right side pressed against my left, my leg resting over his. I haven't felt level of comfort in a while, and I wondered if it was the same for him.

"Well...last year, I...I was the baseball manager at my school. A lot of my dad's colleagues had kids on the team and told me to make friends. I didn't care too much for it at first, but...the star player and I kinda became...friends." He began. "Like, he was amazing. He could throw at 60 miles per hour, he could run like hell, and he was caring, and nice, and looked out for the others...kinda like you..."

I spotted the blush creeping on his face and couldn't help but wonder if it was about me or this other guy. I just cracked a smile. "Aw, hell. I can't throw for shit, forget 60 miles per hour."

He just laughed and relaxed again. "Yeah, he was a jock, I mean, they all were, but he was different. Not like Reiner or anything. Everytime we won a game, he'd always go outta his way to make sure I was invited out to celebrate with the team."

His eyes were red and his eyelids were heavy, and I was beginning to wonder if he was too gone to remember his point.

"But y'know...his dad didn't like me. His dad always said that I was a little... _off_ , or whatever. Must've been hard for him, I guess, 'cause I remember he really valued his father's opinion." Marco folded his fingers over his stomach. "I still can't imagine how, though. That man...he just..."

"What happened, Marco?" I asked.

He exhaled. "His dad caught us...together. He didn't say anything right then except that I should go home..."

I just knew that this was the first time Marco's talked about this since it actually happened.  Was this the first time he came out to someone? He was still uneasy, and I wanted to hold his hand, but I didn't want to come on too strong. Instead, I put myself at ease just gently curling my finger around his. He didn't mind.

"Of course, he ignored me after that. I didn't exist to him anymore, you know? When his dad caught me trying to talk to 'im, he actually said to me..." Marco nodded, as if he was finally accepting this. "You two oughta stay away from each other. Your father and I are friends, so I won't bare him the unfortunate embarrassment of telling him his son's a queer."

A single tear escaped his red eyes, and fuck, I just wanted to wipe it away and hold him closer. The fact that I get ten times more affectionate under the influence wasn't helping. I wasn't a barbarian, though. I could respect boundaries.

"I just lost it...I grabbed the nearest blunt object and battered his car. I smashed all his windows. I dented it all up and everything and I couldn't remember any of it. After he said that to me, I swear to you, the next thing I remembered for the longest while was sitting in the police station in handcuffs." He said. "No one believes me, though."

"I believe you, Marco..." Was all I could say, watching him with eyes that begged permission to touch him. He didn't seem to get that, though. He sniffled and turned away, laughing.

"Jeez, I'm sorry, Jean. I'm a vibe-killer, aren't I?"

Yeah, This was killing my high like never before, but this wasn't for me, this was for him. I knew the pain of being ostracized for what you felt was natural all too well...but did he know that about me?

He wiped his eye, his laughter feeling a bit forced now. "I mean, I know you've been wondering what I did to get here, but I'm sure you didn't need my dramatic coming-out story, right?"

"I wanted to hear all of it. Everything." I blurted out. He just blinked, at a bit of a loss for words. "Your ex is a tool, and his dad's a flaming douchebag."

"Flaming, huh?" Finally, I got genuine laughter from him, and hearing that put me back at ease. I gave him a light shove. "I'm honestly a little offended you said we were alike."

"Sorry." He chuckled.

"I’d never do that to you." I mumbled. I glanced over, wondering if he heard that. He was just staring back at me, leading me to believe he did.  Fuck.  I gotta come up with something to distract him from the subject. "I-It's rude to stare."

"Oh, sorry." He glanced off, laughing softly.

"How many fucking times are you gonna apologize within the hour?" I propped myself on my elbows, narrowing my eyes at him. He started snickering and averted his heavy eyes.

"Sorr--"

"Say sorry again and I'll sit on you." I threatened.

"Oh--! Right." He giggled. That fucking giggle. What makes this worse is that he isn’t even acting this way on purpose, he was just high as a kite and it was honestly adorable. "Sorry, I--"

" _MARCO_." I shot up. Realizing what he just did, he burst out laughing.

"No, no, wait, I take it back!"

I already plopped my ass on his stomach, causing him to writhe around in an attempt to turn on his side. I smirked.

"I got buns of steel, Bodt. You're not goin'--whoa HEY--!"

The little shit had those long fingers dug into my sides, tickling me almost to tears. In the back of my mind, I knew we were dancing on the line, about to stumble into territories we might not be ready for, but we were both having so much fun, and this was the closest we've ever been in every sense of the phrase.

Suddenly, there was a banging on Marco's door, startling me. Instead of jumping out of my skin and off of Marco, I fell right into his arms.

We were literally nose to nose. Those big stoned eyes staring into mine. Silence. I've been in this position one or two times not to dismiss it as an awkward mistake.  The knocking continued.

"Knock knock! I know you guys are in there!" It was Kenny.

"I uh...I'll get that." I blinked, trying my hardest not to pay too much attention to the scent of lavender coming from him.

"Okay." His breathing hitched.

I took in a deep breath once I got off of him and composed myself to answer the door. Kenny stands there with an arched eyebrow and folded arms.

"Well I'll be damned."

"What?" I averted my eyes from him.

"Given all the girlish giggling, I thought somethin' _else_ was happening in here, but you guys are just high as hell!" He scoffed.

"Yes, please, much louder so the whole building can hear." I nodded sarcastically.

"Spare me, Jean. I thought you two would be on your toes now more than ever. After what happened today, we've really caught a lot of attention!" He said. My eyebrows furrowed.

"With who?"

"Everyone! I mean, Reiner isn't gonna let this slide, man, and don't even get me started on how pissed off Thomas is." He laughed.  "Instead of sparking up you two should be on your guard."

Part of me wanted to question why he wasn't including himself in that sentiment, but I was so high, the last thing I wanted to do was argue. I glanced over at Marco, and saw the frown on his face after being reminded of what happened.

"Look, man...we know, just relax..." I held a hand on the door, ready for him to leave. Kenny paused, watching Marco and I for a bit before speaking.

"Hey, I didn't just come to bust your balls, alright? Had to check on you." He said. "I heard the commotion you were causing and created a diversion to keep the TAs busy for as long as I could. Glad you got away."

"Wow, thank you, Kenny..." Marco nodded.

"We're a team." Kenny flashed him a smile. "Jeez, I'm beat. You lovebirds enjoy your night."

I don't wanna think 'finally', but _finally_ , he left. I hopped right back onto Marco's bed. He was a little flushed by the 'lovebirds' comment. At that point, I didn't know or care what Kenny thought about us. Nothing's going on, anyway.

"Jean..." Marco called. I watched him sit up next to me and stare at his freckled hands. "I think I...finally stopped shaking."

Without really thinking, I stretched my arm out and pulled his head into me.  It was awkward since he was so much taller than me, and I could feel how tense he was against my body for a good couple minutes, but little by little, he began to relax.  The weight of his head rested in the crook of my neck, and his hands rested on either side of me.  My judgement wasn't very lapsed, I knew full well what I was doing, these situations just always proved to be a convenient excuse.

"When you can't stop shaking...just hold on to me. I'm pretty steady." I told him. The pause that followed would've scared me to death if I was sober. He snorted.

"You're pretty corny is what you are."

"Shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have been a little crazy, so sorry this was a little late! Let me know what you think!


	7. Secret Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The things people do with secrets says a lot about them.

Marco

My god. I like him. There's no mistaking it, no ignoring it, no suppressing it. I like Jean Kirschstein and it's almost more terrifying than the boner I thought he felt last night.

Last night...so much happened last night. I can see why marijuana is illegal, honestly. I would never confess as much as I did last night if I were sober.  Was the weed why he's here, laying next to me so comfortably? I mean, really, the guy has one leg over me, and is almost taking up my whole bed.  Jean...sleeping in my bed. We fell asleep together, in each others arms.

_'Shit...'_ My eyes wandered up to the ceiling.

He gets me to open up about the past that made me feel so miserable upon remembering it, he gets me to come out to him so easily, he squeezes my hands, he holds me in his arms and goes on about how I deserve so much better. He was only being a good friend, right? So why? Why can't I control my gross feelings?

**_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_ **

Jean plugged in the alarm, I see. His dark brows started to twitch, then furrow at the sound. I'm being extremely creepy, watching him wake up, but I can't look away...or bring myself to turn the damn thing off.

"Marco..." He grumbled my name. A shiver runs down my spine. Jean has the most attractive sleepy voice, I swear to god. I try to calm my thirst down and focus on turning off the alarm. It was 11am. I lean over him; his face was dangerously close to my neck. The tip of his nose gently brushed against me as he turned over. The beeping sounding in my room stopped but blaring warning sounds fired off in my head from how close he was to me now. His knee was bent upward, rubbing a bit against my crotch.

_'Shit..fuck..shit..!_ ' I wanted to flail out of bed, but he was still sleeping so peacefully. Honestly, dicks were such whiny, sensitive things. The slightest bit of friction, the tiniest touch, especially from the one you like...it's all over.

"Um...Jean?" I scooted away from him, trying to pretend I didn't need to rub off right here and now.

"Mmf." He grumbled.

"Should we...get breakfast?" I cleared my throat nervously. He inhaled deeply just before rolling over and checking the clock.

"Smoking always makes me wake up late..." He sat up with a stretch.  I might have been paying too much attention to the muscles in his arms as he stretched them out.  He took an extra few minutes to wake himself up before looking back at me.  “What’re you doing? Don’tcha want breakfast?”

“Oh! Right.” I shook my head, finally leaving my bed.

Before I knew it, we were nearing the end of October, approaching Halloween, as if this place wasn't nightmarish enough.  The days seemed to go by a lot faster now that I had to watch my back.  All I seemed to do was go to class, get into some degree of trouble with Jean and Kenny, head back to the dorms and do homework until the next day.  The more time Jean and I spent together, the more my feelings for him grew...and I still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

I was at that stage of infatuation where all his idiosyncrasies were fascinating.  The way his lips curl in a smirk with every sarcastic remark he makes; of course, I laughed so he wouldn’t notice my staring.  I’d make him laugh on purpose just to hear it, or just to see how far he would go in trying not to laugh too hard.  I even catch myself smiling when he takes his gauges out and sticks his pencil through his earlobe--honestly, I thought I would catch myself after that last one, but no, still find it cute.

“Fuck me...” I heard him sigh.

My face immediately became hot as I jerked my head toward him.  “What!?”

He slid those hazel eyes toward me and narrowed them, possibly wondering why I freaked out like that. He showed me the math homework he got back. A big fat red 37 was scribbled on it.

"O-Oh..." I frowned a little.

"Please tell me you're good at math." He sighed.

"Yeah I'm pretty good." I nodded with a smile.

"Would ya mind tutoring me in everything I'm never gonna need past high school?" He frowned. I laughed as he kept complaining. "Pythagorean theorem. Honestly. How 'bout I learn somethin' useful, like writing a check or paying taxes?"

Class was ending, and the two of us didn't have much of anything to do for the rest of the day.

"Hey, if you're not hungry, we can head to my room and study there." I suggested.

He paused, that smirk spreading on his face and making me nervous. "Study. Heh."

"Go on, call me a nerd for studying," I began, knowing that's where he was going.

"I don't have to say the obvious." He laughed. I shot him scowl and kept walking toward the boys dorm. "But I mean...it's the first time in a while I've actually been worried about schoolwork."

I smiled at that, but instead of expressing how glad I was I hear his mind was at peace, I cracked a joke. "Aw. Look how much of a good influence I am on you."

"Yeah, yeah."

Jean and I were laying on my bed, going over the Pythagorean Theorem and every other math lesson before he didn't bother to understand.  Even in the span of the hour teaching him all this, I learned so much about him.  I could tell now that Jean was the kind of person to abandon something if he wasn’t immediately good at it.  Although this was wrecking his brain, I enjoyed tutoring him like this.  We weren't off pulling some ridiculous stunt or fighting off bullies, we were just studying, like normal kids, like normal friends.

"That shit right there," he snapped me out of my thoughts, leaning against me to point out a problem in the book.  "You might as well just do it 'cause there's no way I'm figuring it out."

Jean has no concept whatsoever of personal space, especially when it came to those close to him.  No matter how many times I would subtly scoot away, he would find his way back in my bubble...not that I didn't _want_ to be close to him, feel his occasional touches on my shoulder and arm to get my attention, smell the scent of shower soap and just... _Jean_. There was just no way I could make this crush any worse than it is right now.  I had to focus.  He needed my help in passing math.

“See, that’s it, you get it now?” I couldn't help but smile, watching his face light up with new found discovery.

“Holy shit, now that I understand it, I think I hate it so much more.” He nodded.  I rested my face on my palm, watching him work through the rest of the problems.

“Alright, give me some tips for taking pictures.” I grabbed the camera from my desk.  He took it from my hands and leaned over to get my laptop.

“I think I have some stuff on my art blog.” he mumbled.

“You have an art blog?” I scooted closer to see the screen.  He shrunk a little, I’m guessing from embarrassment, but tried to mask it with being aloof about it.

“I mean, it’s whatever. Just some doodles and shit...took some pictures of stuff I thought was cool I guess…”

Once the page loaded up completely, my eyes widened with amazement.  These weren’t just doodles, he put real time and effort into this art.  Some were digital, some traditional, all of different landscapes and characters.  I took the laptop from him and started scrolling.

“Jean...this is amazing…”

I saw his face turn a light shade of pink as he awkwardly fidgeted beside me.  Just then, music started playing.  He cleared his throat and reached over to stop it.  “Friggin autoplay…”

I held the computer from his reach.  “No wait, I know this song.”

“This song? No, it’s really old and...no one really remembers it--”

I started chuckling.  “Don’t be such a hipster, Jean, I know Death Cab For Cutie when I hear them.”

He flushed even more, sitting back against my headboard now that he gave up trying to get the computer back from me.  I scooted back next to him and set the laptop on my right leg and his left.  “You like them, huh?”

“You kidding? 'Plans' was like, the best album they had.” I nudged him.  Obviously, I’m the only other person he knows who listens to Death Cab, which is _ridiculous_.  I studied each individual post sitting on a dark, autumn-themed background with one of my favorite bands playing in the background, and I could tell Jean was feeling a little exposed--despite suggesting this--but I couldn't help but revel in exploring the more personal, intimate parts of him. People take one look at him and see some thug going nowhere, but if they took the time to get to know him and look at all this, I bet they'd think -

"You're really talented..."

"Just a hobby..." He shrugged.

"You should do this professionally!" I jerked my head toward him. He really wanted to smile at me, but it faltered once he took a second to think about it.

"Yeah right, as if my parents'll let that happen now."

Of course. Parents. I understood completely, because I'm somewhat in the same boat. I couldn't complain, however, because unlike Jean, I don't have this special talent I'm so obviously passionate about. He continued.

"I mean, they didn't care too much about it before, they were kinda glad I had an outlet...but now that my brother's in jail, their perfect heir needed to be replaced, so..." He shrugged. "No place for this stuff in running a business, y'know?"

There was a long pause after that. I wanted to say something, but Jean seemed to end it at that, slightly bobbing his head to the music we miraculously both liked. Instead, I said something else.

"It's good you don't blame your brother."

"How could i? He's the only one who really supported this. He's the one who bought all my supplies, he bought me a camera, he got me to start this damn blog in the first place." He started to smile, pointing at the screen. Without even noticing, I started to smile, too. He glanced over at me and looked away.  "What?"

"Nothing, I just...think it's great how much you two love each other." I shrugged, scrolling through his photography.

There were pictures of landscapes, animals, and..certain people. It looked like snaps of the Garrison years prior to this. I spotted numerous pictures of Mikasa; mostly without her noticing, usually trailing Eren, who was cropped out.

There were a lot of pictures with he and the preps, too. Jean's past with with the preps is something he barely talks about, but it had to be significant to be in here. Jean and that faction go on as if they're strangers, but these pictures of he and Christa suggest otherwise. Although, I couldn't help but notice there were more pictures of Hitch than Christa...

There were, of course, a lot of pictures with and of Kenny, and lastly, pictures of a blonde boy who resembled him.

"This must be him, huh?" I tilted my head at the boy. The caption under simply read 'Julien'. He held the precious slingshot, Snapper, in one hand and some projectiles in the other. The photo caught him about to do mischief, but his smile was sweet, almost innocent. He must have been smiling at Jean. The two seemed so different. Jean looked so scary and unapproachable while his brother had this warm, inviting smile on his face with a welcoming look in his eyes.

"He looks just as nice as you say he is. He doesn't look like he belongs in jail." I said.

"He doesn't." Jean huffed, and immediately I knew I was wandering into forbidden territory. Still, I wanted to be just as familiar to him as Kenny. I want to know...I want Jean to talk to me.

"Hey, I'll help you. Whatever it takes to find out what happened to him, I'll help." It took everything in me to look him in the eyes and tell him that, and once I did, his hazel eyes flicked back to the screen, scrolling through more photos. He didn't have to say anything, I could tell from the calmness that he was glad.

"He'd like you." He said. I blinked, then looked back at him. His cheeks were slightly red, but he tried to ignore it. "Do you...have any siblings, Marco?"

I frowned. I wanted to answer him, but the answer would shift the conversation to being about me, and I didn't really want that. So what do we do when we want to ignore our feelings? Joke about it, no matter how unfunny it is. "Hah, well, with me outta the way, I'll probably be expecting a new brother or sister the next time I go home."

"Sheesh, you make it sound like your parents hate you or something." He almost laughed.

"Just my stepdad probably." I said without thinking. So much regret filled my subconscious as the pause in the room grew longer. Shit. That was not supposed to get out, ever. I tried not to make any sudden movements; instead, I just stared at the camera mike have me earlier, hoping my word vomit went over his head, but I could only dream of being so lucky. Those hazel eyes were staring at me in disbelief.

"The CEO of STN, Emilio Bodt... _isn't_ your real dad?"

"No, he's not...He's just 'been there'--I guess you could say--since I was little. My mom and I came from...humble beginnings."

"Humble?" He raised an eyebrow.

"My mom was a housekeeper at his parents' estate in her late teens and started fooling around with him and mentioned me like, five months into their relationship." I scoffed.

"Skills." Jean nodded, setting the laptop down to listen. I punched him in the arm and kept talking.

"When they got married they kept me hidden away for a while to make the public think I was his. We all knew I was more or less useless to him from a legacy standpoint. He needed a blood-related son to run the network."

"Shit, Marco..." He frowned. I shrugged with a small laugh.

"So I might not get his fortune, big deal. He's a pretty good caretaker, it coulda been worse."

He frowned. "You are so optimistic sometimes it makes me wanna puke."

"I can't complain..." I laughed a little.

"Then I'll complain for you. I am Marco Bodt, and everything that's happened in my life so far is bullshit I want to log out."

I bowled over in laughter and shook my head. "Mom-Jean is the best Jean."

The face he made next was priceless. "Wha--?! I ain't tryna be nobody's mom, Freckles!"

"You just...have a motherly quality about you, Jean, no shame in it." I grinned.

"We're gonna fight." He grumbled, only making me laugh more. "You just don't deserve this."

There he goes again about what I deserve. I swear, if this boy keeps being so sweet on me I'm gonna lose it. "W-Well it's not all bad...if I hadn't met you, then it'd definitely be all bad..."

He glanced at me, then back at the laptop, a full blown smile across his face.  Just then, Death Cab For Cutie ended, and another song began playing.  My eyes lit up and a grin grazed my face.  Jean saw this and kept smiling, his face turning a light shade of pink.  "Get the hell outta here. Smashing Pumpkins, too?"

"So what if they were makin' music before we were even born? They're amazing! I love this song!" I shoved him in my excitement.  His laugh, this band, it all made me really happy.

"The Mellon Collie and Infinite Sadness was the best album. No one can tell me otherwise." he held his hand up to me, as if to prepare for some kind of disagreement.  Please.  His statement made me feel a strange array of emotions.  Happiness, because we have yet another thing in common.  Sadness, because shit, we have yet another thing in common, and I am falling for Jean Kirschstein harder and faster by the hour.  Suddenly, there were two loud knocks at my door before it flew open.

"What up, sluts! The fuck are you guys listening to?" Kenny Ackerman came in, strangely putting a damper on how light Jean made me feel just now. "So, Halloween is comin' up soon, and y'know what that means?"

"You'll put on that gimp suit I told ya to get last year?" Jean snickered, lowering the volume on the laptop.

"Assless chaps ain't so flattering on me, Jean." Kenny folded his arms. "They're gonna open the gates! We can leave!"

"Leave?" I cracked a smile. I can finally check out the town?

"The tabloids were making the Garrison out to be a little too much like a prison over the years, so to diffuse the rumors, they gave us a little freedom." Kenny nodded. "But yes! We can leave campus...as long as we're back by ten o clock."

Jean let out a loud, drawn out groan at that. I snorted at how obnoxious he was being while Kenny shut the door behind him.

"Oh c'mon, Jean, I got something huge planned--"

"Jeez, Kenny," Jean sighed, prompting Kenny to continue.

"Hear me out, guys. Hitch is throwing a party at her parents beach house in town. She does every year. All the preps and the jocks are gonna be there."

"If it's an invite you want, forget it. Hitch and I are ancient history." Jean lay back on my pillow, arms folded behind his head.

I'm sorry, did he just casually throw it out there that he used to date Hitch and just lay down on my pillow like its nothing? Jean Kirschstein, I swear.

“I always hated her and those preps. We’ll just crash it.” Kenny shrugged.  And this guy, just continuing on as if I’m not way out of the loop here.  Kenny and Jean had a habit of forgetting that this is my first year here.

“Why would you wanna do that?” Jean closed his blog window, stopping the music.

“Because those pricks need to get what’s comin’ to ‘em. They’re walkin’ around here all high and mighty just ‘cause they’re the one percent...we’ll take them down a notch.” Kenny started pacing.  “And they’ve allied with the _Jocks_ now! Why would they do that? We gotta show ‘em we’re coming for ‘em.”

"Kenny?" I blinked.  Kenny was always sort of a paranoid guy, but it was a little much today.

He abruptly stopped to face us.  “I swear, since I stopped taking my meds, I’ve been thinking so much clearly.”

“Dude…” Jean furrowed his eyebrows while I tilted my head in bewilderment.

"Oh, c'mon, Jean! I just wanna egg the house a little, break a couple windows, don't be so boring!" Kenny exclaimed, almost like he was throwing a tantrum.

"Hitch already had her windows smashed--by my soup can--been there and done that already. If I get busted on vandalism again I'm outta here." Jean said.

"Don't be such a pussy!" Kenny scoffed up a laugh, plopping down on my bed near Jean.  “Y’know, you used to be so much fun! Remember? Julz used to be all chickenshit about this, and you and me would always convince him to do it.”

“Knock it off.” Jean shot up, leaving the space next to me.  “If you wanna get yourself into trouble, I ain’t stopping you, just leave me out of it.”

“Jean…” I blinked, sensing his entire demeanor change.  I glanced at Kenny, feeling at if he mentioned Jean’s brother on purpose to get a rise out of him.  Then again, Kenny was a little off today.

“I’m gonna grab some clothes from my room.” he grumbled, shutting the door behind him.  There was no question that I was worried about him, but since he’d be back, I didn’t go after him.

Kenny stood up as well, but instead of leaving, he started pacing.  “He’ll change his mind.”

“You sure about that?” I tilted my head.

“Yeah. _You’ll_ change his mind.” he pointed at me, still pacing.

Me? As if I had that much power over Jean Kirschstein.  Besides, I wasn’t going to try to make him do anything he didn’t want to. “Wh-What makes you say that?”

Kenny slowed down, turning his head toward me.  He came to a complete stop, not taking his eyes off of me for a second.  That stare of his always freaked me out.  This time, however, it was as if he was just figuring something out.  I glanced left, then right, signaling my discomfort.

“Don’t be coy.” Kenny cracked a smirk. “Think I wouldn’t notice you two? Joined at the hip? Sleepin’ in the same bed? Cuddling and listening to Death Cab For Fruity?”

“I dunno what you’re getting at.” I shut my laptop, desperately wanting to change the subject.

“You know damn right.” an unsettling chuckle bubbled out of him.  My stomach started to somersault out of control, I wasn’t sure if I needed Jean to come back to end this conversation or for him to stay as far away as possible so he wouldn’t hear what’s coming next.  Kenny shrugged.  “Look, Marco, I don’t give a shit if you like guys or girls. Humankind as a whole is a rotting cesspool of garbage.”

I shifted uncomfortably.  “Then chill out already…”

“Why? Because you know that just because I don't care it doesn't mean Jean won't? You afraid he'll hate you when he finds out you got a thing for ‘im?” he inched closer to my bed.  My stomach flipped once again.  All this time, I was so caught up in not making things obvious to Jean, I completely forgot about being careful around our wonderful third addition.

“Don’t even think about saying anything!” I locked eyes with him.  Being firm wasn’t going to work in my favor, however.  The fact of the matter was that he had something over me, and he was going to use it.

“You oughta show me some _respect_ , Freckles. Jean might like hangin’ out with you, but he hasn’t forgotten who knows him best.” Kenny’s eyes widened with a hint of anger.  “I could take this the whole nine yards if you wanna be difficult. I could walk out, tell Jean we ain’t a team anymore. You think he’s gonna let me leave? You think he’s gonna be happy lookin’ out for you all the time?”

“Jean...Jean said he and I were solid. No matter what.” I tried to be firm, but we both knew my confidence was shaken, because Kenny knew something I didn’t, and he also knows something about me that Jean doesn’t.

“Sure.” he feigned a polite smile.  He plopped down at the edge of my bed, completely comfortable although I was on pins and needles.  “I have information about Julien, his big brother he can’t stop thinking about. What if I don’t like how shit’s being handled on this team and walk away? between you and Julien, who d’you think he’ll choose?”

Upon hearing those cold words, a sinking feeling tugged at my heart.  He was right, and we both knew it.  I was getting too cocky.  I forgot that this was a game of survival, and that Jean was keeping a bargain.  How could I think for a second that Jean remotely cared more about me than finding Julien again?  Forget about me, if I screw up and piss Kenny off, Jean will lose his chance at seeing his brother again, and there was no way I wanted that to happen.

Kenny stood up, causing me to snap out of my thoughts.  He offered me a nod.  “So, what’s it gonna be?”

Either way, this was going to be difficult; either way, Jean would suffer, but if I do what Kenny wants, he’ll still have a shot at his goal.  I swallowed hard, and finally spoke.  “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

Kenny perked up.  “Hey, lookit Freckles pullin’ through!”

_‘Fuck you, Kenny Ackerman. With no lube and a cactus.’_ I kept my mouth shut, staring down at my computer in my lap.

“Jean’s been gone a while, don’tcha think?” He headed toward the door. Did he honestly want me to do this right now? He looked back at me with a look that told me to get off my ass, and i knew the answer. I had no idea why crashing the preps' party was so important to Kenny, but at this point, it didn't matter. I had to do what he says to keep Jean's mission and my secret safe...

The two of us silently headed down the hall toward Jean and Connie's room. I had to agree, he was taking a long time. As the two of us got closer to the shut door, we heard voices grow louder. Connie and Jean were there at the same time. I picked up my pace, knowing the conversation was nothing good.

"You and me had a deal, Kirschstein. What the hell was that yesterday, huh?!" Connie's voice sounded.

"I could ask you the same thing, chrome-dome. You're the one who took it too far." Jean responded.

"D'you know how much trouble Sasha got into with Ymir 'cause of the supply she lost? The supply _she gave to you?_ " Connie said.

"For protecting you guys' poorly kept secret? Yes, I can imagine, that sounds like a you-guys problem." Jean said nonchalantly. I could feel Connie's anger rise from the other side of this door. Honestly, mouthing off is what's gonna kill Jean one day.

"Connie and Sasha struck a deal with Jean? What about?" Kenny inquired. I narrowed my eyes, knowing he wanted to be in the loop to someday use it against us, but I'd regret it if I didn't tell him.

"We caught them together in the abandoned school bus near the auto garage. We made a deal to pretend we didn't."

"Braus and Springer are an item, huh?" Kenny nodded.

"Look, if Reiner let it go, then what's the problem? And hey, it ain't like Ymir isn't used to Sasha fucking things up." Jean said. Suddenly, sounds of a struggle emitted from beyond the door. Connie became violent.

"Don't talk about her like she's an idiot, you pretentious bastard..!" Connie grunted.

"H-Hey! Get the fuck off me!"

I ceased the eavesdropping and banged on the door. "Jean? Hey, you alright?"

The shuffling and fighting stopped. All that was left was louder breathing. I was about to open the door, but it flew open, and a beyond pissed off Connie Springer stomped out. Once he got a glimpse of me, I swore, a vein nearly popped out of his head.

"You two better watch your fucking backs." He threatened, just before heading out of his room and down the hall.

I glanced over at Kenny, who silently had his hands behind his back. He gestured his head toward Jean, signaling me to get on with convincing him into Halloween pranks. He shot me one last look that ordered me to do what he says, and turned on his heel to leave. Less concerned about him, I walked into Jean's room. He was obviously still a little riled up from the minor altercation, but he didn't want me to see how it affected him. He had his back turned to me,that.  Without looking at me, Jean collected his backpack and left the room as well.

“Jean,” I called.  I followed him as he threw his things in my room and left again.

“I...need to calm down a little.” he said, heading outside.

“Talk to me, atleast?” I trailed him, hoping that didn’t sound too much like a plea.

“Not much to talk about. I just hate those jocks. I hate everyone.” he huffed, digging into his pocket.

“Everyone..?” I glanced at him, then back at the ground.  He stopped his shuffling to stare at me and just cracked a smile.  I smiled back, knowing I was exempt.

“Y’know, I came out here to have a smoke, but I don’t think I need it anymore.” he told me, placing the box of cigarettes back in his pocket.  I would’ve never guessed that Jean smoked, and I wanted to scold him for it, but I was a little preoccupied with congratulating myself on making him feel better.

“Are you saying I made you feel better?” a grin spread across my face.  His usual scowl appeared, and he glanced away from me, only causing me to giggle a little. “C’mon, admit it!”

“That fucking giggle…” I heard him mumble as I nudged him.

“Honestly, one of the best feelings is being liked by someone who generally hates everyone else.” I scooted closer to him, still nudging him with my elbow.  He chuckled a little and shoved me off.  I glanced away, feeling my face grow warmer at the sound of his laugh.  “Sorry, maybe tolerate is a better word. Yeah. You tolerate me is more like it, right?”

Those pretty hazel eyes were on me again, considering.  It felt like he knew the answer to that and he just wanted to hold it back a moment.  Finally, after another soft chuckle, he shook his head.  “Nah, I like you, Bodt. I actually like you a lot.”

My immediate reflex was to pump my fist with a wide grin.  I knew he didn’t mean he liked me romantically, but it was a start, right?  Once I heard Jean snort, I jerked my head over to see him turned away from me, laughing his head off.  I was blushing hardcore, I knew it.  Thankfully, before I could die of embarrassment, a strawberry blonde girl approached the two of us.

“Uhm...excuse me, but you two are friends with Armin now, right..?”

“Who’s asking?” I felt Jean’s guard shoot up.  The girl shrunk, avoiding eye-contact.

“J-Just me…”

“And you are?” Jean tilted his head, his stare must have been crushing her.  Besides that, I wondered if she was new, as well, since Jean didn’t seem to notice her.

“My name is Hannah...I really need your help.” she said.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired, and she was about to answer, but Jean cut her off.

“Er, look, can it wait ‘til tomorrow? It’s been a long day.”

“No, it can’t!” she spoke up, catching Jean’s attention, finally.  “I mean, it’s my fault, but I’m trying to fix it and you two are the only ones I can think to help…”

Jean and I glanced at eachother, then looked back at Hannah.  She looked positively mortified about something, so I knew it was serious.  Even Jean--the considerably less perceptive of the two of us--was curious of what she had to say.

“Mr. Dawk likes to randomly collect the class’ notes to see who was paying attention, right?” she began.

“I fuckin’ hate when he does that…” Jean hissed as I laughed a little.

“W-Well, I was definitely writing good notes! It’s just that...I was writing some other...rather personal things, too…things Mr. Dawk can’t know, ‘cause if he knows, everyone will know! He’s that kind of teacher!” she panicked.  “I didn’t want to ask you, but I felt I had to, ‘cause if this gets out, it’ll affect you, too...”

“How so?” Jean blinked.  Hannah became so red, and tensed up so badly, I could’ve sworn she was going to start crying.  She took a breath and spat it out.

“Th-Those personal things are...about me and Marco..!”

I blinked a couple times, honestly at a loss.  “Uhh...”

“There is no you and Marco.” Jean said abruptly. Once I looked over at him with widened eyes and a loss for words, he turned a light shade of pink and fixated on Hannah, trying to pretend he didn't feel my eyes on him.

“I know, but I...I didn’t know he was collecting notes otherwise I wouldn’t’ve scribbled all my feelings about Marco on my notes and I just…!” She held her face in her hands.  “I’m sorry, Marco, I don’t want you to be shocked if this gets out, and I really planned on confessing you to under way better circumstances--like, never--but this happened, and I just..!”

Jean scoffed, glancing off. This girl was going through a crisis and here I am all giddy inside because I think Jean is jealous. I'm an all around terrible person.  She held out a small stack of papers.  “I rewrote my notes...minus the stuff about us. Please replace them?”

"Don't worry, Hannah." I placed my hand on her arm. “It’s most likely still in his room. It’s still early, so we can get in and out before they lock up for the night, right, Jean?”

Her face lit up, both from his words and the physical contact.  Honestly, what an awkward situation this was.

“Th-Thank you so much...I’ll wait for you outside the girl’s dorm.” she said.  Jean couldn’t even control the eyeroll that followed her sentence.  Jean knows more than anyone how much of a waste her crush is on me and here he is, pouting. Honestly, it gave me such a light feeling.

"I swear...you and your innate need to help people..." Jean huffed, continuing on toward the school building.

"Aw, Jean, am I a horrible person for feeling good about how jealous you are?"

"Yes." He shoved his hands in his pockets. Once the word left his mouth, he glanced at me, knowing I heard it, but hoped I didn't. "I mean--I ain't fuckin’ jealous..."

"Sure, sure..." I snorted.

"Just focus." He shook his head, hustling toward the side if the building.

The daylight was fading fast, so it was a lot easier to move around the TAs patrolling the building's parameters. Curfew was in about an hour at nine, so we had to act fast. Jean lead me toward a secluded side of the building, where vines grew along the walls and fence.

"C'mon." His voice lowered as he started climbing. I followed close behind, and it took everything in me not to stare at his ass above my head as we climbed. Once we got to the balcony, I followed his lead as we ducked down under the windows, just in case teachers lingered in the rooms.

"There's a busted window around here that can't lock; we'll be in soon." Jean motioned for me to follow him.  

“Have you broken into here before?” I chuckled nervously.

“Eh, kinda. My brother and I once snuck in here to grab Kenny’s detention slip.” he answered.  I frowned a little, then immediately asked,

“Kenny didn’t come with you?”

“No way, he’s the first person they’d suspect of doing that.” Jean answered, as if I should know that.

“Oh.” I mumbled, quietly following him toward our destination.  Jean stopped in front of a cracked window, slowly stood up and carefully opened it.  Once we were inside the dark room, Jean took me by the shoulders and moved me away from the window.  My heart rate sped up a bit at how easily he got me against the wall.

“Marco...you don’t trust Kenny, do you?” he asked.  This is also what I hated about crushes.  Shit like this happens and all you can think about is sucking face--when in reality, he only wants to ask a question.  Why must he ask me something this in the most intimate fashion imaginable? Why must he ask me this at all after what Kenny and I just talked about?

“What d’you mean?” I cracked a nervous smile, trying to dodge it.  The stare he was giving me grew heavier.

“You two just don’t really...click. I know he was my friend and all, but, you’re so uneasy around him. It’s like you’d rather he wasn’t around…”

_‘Oh, believe me, I don’t.’_ My chest tightened a bit.  I had no idea just how in tune Jean was to my mannerisms, or maybe I wasn’t being careful enough.  If he was picking up on this, there was a number of other things he could pick up on...

I chuckled a little.  “Ah, well...I just get along more with you is all.”

Yeah. That’s a good answer.  I didn’t have to lie to him about how I really felt about Kenny.  I knew he was going to press the matter, so I removed myself from his corner and wandered around the room.  “We’re in Hanji’s class now. How far from Dawk’s room?”

Fortunately, he dropped the subject to answer me.  “Luckily it’s on the same floor. I dunno if any teachers are left in here, but try not to make a sound.”

I nodded, following him out of the classroom.  Schools looked completely different at night, but the Garrison looked like something out of a horror movie.  It was already pretty rough to be in during school hours, so I wasn’t too shocked about it being nearly pitch black and freezing in here.

“Jeez, watch it…” Jean whispered after I bumped into him.

“Sorry, I can’t really see...” I said.  I felt his hand wrap around my wrist and continue walking.  I hate crushes.  I tried to remain calm; atleast he wasn’t completely holding my hand.  I heard a couple TAs wandering downstairs near the entrance doors.  Jean and I froze.  

"Dude, no way. Petra has it bad for Vice Principal Ackerman."

"Doesn't mean Auruo won't try to ask her out again!"

"It's suicide!"

It was Erd and Gunther, and they may not be able to see us, but they have flashlights.  Jean and I glanced at eachother, complete still, and watched as they exited the building.

After a sigh of relief, Jean nudged me. "Let's hurry."

As he took my arm again, I figured that now was a good time to try convincing him into doing whatever it was Kenny was planning at Hitch's party.

"That guy Connie's got serious issues." I randomly started up.

"Fucking basket case, that kid." Jean snorted, using his phone light to navigate through the dark halls.

"All the jocks are, really." I went on.

"Yeah." He agreed.

"They should...be put in their place." my voice staggered, feeling sick as those words left my mouth.  When he didn’t immediately respond, I started to feel even more uncomfortable, but I had to continue.  “Y’know, getting them back at the Halloween party doesn’t sound half bad.”

“What?”

“I mean, I don’t agree with Kenny on _crashing_ it, but we could just mess with them a little. Shits and giggles, y’know?” I said.  "They don't even have to know it's us. It'll be fun!"

Silence. I can only imagine the look on his face; I knew that he knew this wasn't like me.

"This school is really starting to get to ya, huh?" He finally said something.

"Hey, I only like to give people what's coming to them." I quickly responded.

"Heh." He snorted, noticing it was something he himself said before. "Alright. I'm in if you are."

Kenny will be ecstatic. About Jean going along with this stupid plan, as well as the fact that he was right about me being able to change his mind.

Jean continued to lead me to the lounge, which was straight ahead now.  He turned the knob, only for it to be locked.  I gulped, wondering if it would be as easy to get out as it was to get in.  Jean cursed to himself and pulled his cellphone out.

"I'm gonna get the notes. You stand watch." he said. I nodded, turning toward the halls as he got to picking the lock.  After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.  "What d'you think she wrote about you in there?”

“No idea. I’ve never spoken to her.” I shrugged.  He paused, then scoffed.

“I’ll find out. Just what can she say about a guy she’s never interacted with anyway?”

“Violation of privacy, Jean.” I shook my head.  “Besides, I don’t really care what it says.”

“I do.” he grumbled.

“Why?” I couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, ‘cause, I mean…” he stopped picking a moment, then continued.  “I just wanna see how potentially dangerous this could be to your reputation.”

“A freckled kid with a below-average haircut and anger issues pisses off two factions at the same time in just one month. How much worse could my reputation get?” I shrugged.  The door opened and I could feel his eyes on me.  My heart fluttered at the jealous vibe I was getting from him, still. “If you wanna read it, I can’t stop you.”

“Thank you.” he finally entered the room.  I shook my head, following him inside.  He immediately found the desk where the notes were in.  He ripped through countless other classmates’ papers, finally getting to one with little drawings along the sides and top of the paper.

“Gotcha.” Jean held his cellphone light to her notes.  There were drabbles about Mr. Dawk’s class, and there were cute drawings of Hannah and myself with hearts and stars surrounding it. There was a little blurb on the side which read, “If only I had the guts to talk to him. He looks approachable enough, but that giant horse is so intimidating, I can never find an opening!”

Jean just held the paper in his tight, irritated grip as I spat laughter.  “You had no clue she existed and I’m the cockblock here? If anything, she’s..!” he stopped himself and simmered down with a slight blush.

“Y’know, I don’t get the horse thing. I’ve just been going with it all this time.” I told him through my uncontrollable cackling.

“Let’s go.” he scoffed, placing the new notes in place of the old ones and closing the drawer.  Once we headed back into the hallway, we suddenly heard shuffling in the building.  On guard, Jean jerked back, scanning the area.  I couldn’t see past him or my immediate surroundings.  I heard light groaning and heavy breathing, and it was making me nervous.  Before I knew it, it was growing closer.  Jean grabbed my arm and lead me into another room; It looked to be the Principal’s office.  Jean pressed his finger to his lips, signaling not to make a single sound.  He lead me into a closet and cracked the door. The two of us were so close together, I thought my was would explode from how nervous I was. We were chest to chest, heads turned toward the closet doors. if I moved, the closet door would creak open, and we'd be noticed.

The loud shuffling followed us into the office. The lights were switched on and my stomach dropped and my eyes grew wide once I saw what was beyond the closet door. It was Vice Principal Ackerman...and Principal Smith! They were wrapped in eachother's arms--the height difference completely disregarded, giving desperate, almost violent kisses.  Mr. Ackerman fished a condom from the dresser drawer, taking a few moments to undo the other man's pants and put it on.

"Hm, not gonna warm me up first?" Mr. Smith asked huskily.

"Tch, you want a blowjob, huh? You seem pretty ready to me. Besides, I've been waiting for this all day." Mr. Ackerman sighed.

Mr. Smith shoved Mr. Ackerman over his desk, yanking his trousers down. My breathing hitched.

"Fuck, Erwin..." Vice Principal groaned. My face started to heat up and turn red. I wanted to run, but I couldn't look away, like a train wreck. A weird, sexy train wreck.  The room we came from, Hanji’s room, was down the hall and I had no idea how we would get there without being noticed.

"I think I heard something." The shorter man straightened. My stomach flipped and I froze.

"You're always so paranoid." Erwin rubbed his hands along his sides, still viciously thrusting into the other man. The shorter mans eyes rolled to the back of his head. This was so wrong. Jean fidgeted beside me.

"Jesus fuck..."

"Are we s'posed to wait until they're done or..?" I squinted my eyes.

"We can't go anywhere now without being spotted." He responded, placing his cellphone against the crack of the door. His camera was recording, catching the two men in full quality.

"W-Whoa! What're you doing?!" I whisper-shouted, glancing back

"Ssh, I'm just gathering evidence. It looks like we'll be here a while so why not?" He waved his hand at me.  I shook my head, knowing if I argued any more, we'd be noticed.  Jean wouldn't listen to me anyway.  You'd think years of porn-watching would desensitize you to this sort of thing, but the fact that it's real, live, and private freaked me out a little. I tried to tune them out, but with Mr. Smith's slapping and Mr. Ackerman's grunting, there was no way.

I turned to look at Jean, who was still recording, and couldn't help but stare at his concentration. He pressed against me, trying to get a better angle from the cracked door, and my body temperature was rising by the second...speaking of things rising, I wasn't looking at the two lovers outside, but with all their keens and moans, and Jean's slender body against mine, blood was leaving my head and rushing down below. Fuck. There was no way I'd be able to play this off.

"Shit, I'm close...I'm so close..!" Mr. Smith panted.

"Don't you dare. Not without me." The smaller man hissed.

“Is it weird to think this is actually kinda hot?” Jean whispered, zooming in on the vice principal’s face.  My answer? Yes.  It’s extremely weird.  At the same time, however, two guys doing it is hot? Jean Kirschstein is most definitely not straight and it’s really not helping my feelings.

“Levi...Levi, I’m going to..!” Mr. Smith grabbed the smaller man by the hair.  

"FUCK."

“There’s the money shot.” Jean snickered quietly, getting every second of the bliss on their faces.  Open mouths, tightly shut eyes, and furrowed brows.  Maybe Jean was right, maybe it was a little hot...just a teensy bit.

Levi turned his head to the larger man, still trying to catch his breath behind him, and pulled his face in for a kiss.  Jean turned the camera off, thinking that this--amongst everything else that happened--was too personal to film, I guess.  Jean saved the video and carefully, quietly, put his phone back into his pocket.  I didn’t notice--rather, I didn’t want to think about--how close our faces were until he looked at me.  He glanced outside, then rolled his eyes, as if to say that we would be in here for good while.  I cracked a small smile.  If Jean was with me, I didn’t care.  He rested his head on my shoulder, lighting my senses on fire.  He was just tired, and here I am trying to ignore his actions as well as my embarrassing boner.  I was hopeless.  Completely and utterly hopeless.

Mr. Smith’s phone started beeping, and that’s when he got himself together.  

"H-Hello? Yes...yes I'm just..I sound out of breath? I'm not, I'm just...No, I'm on my way right now...I just got a little caught up in work." He stepped outside to answer it, leaving Mr. Ackerman, still bent over the desk, growing angrier by the second.  The smaller man scoffed, fixed his clothes, and bolted out without another word.

“Levi..! Levi, wait!”

“Why don't you tell her, Erwin? Tell her what we just did." Mr. Ackerman huffed, still recovering from the steamy affair. Jean lifted his head, leaning into the argument between the secret lovers.

"Levi!" Erwin whisper-shouted in a scolding tone. Quickly getting back to his phone call. "I-I'm sorry. You know Levi, he's just being a little difficult..."

"Honestly, fuck you, Erwin.” Levi stormed off.

"Nice choice of words." Jean snorted.

I may have thoroughly disliked the admins, but I couldn't help but sympathize with their current situation.  To think, witnessing two men make weirdly passionate love in an office--just being who they truly are--while I’m still in the closet.  Figuratively and literally.  I had no problem admitting my sexuality...to anyone who wasn't family, that is. Their quarrel fortunately followed them straight out of the backdoors of the building, leaving Jean and I to our escape.

* * *

Hannah was waiting outside the girl’s dorm, just like she said.  It was well past curfew, and we were in there for about an hour.  She stood to her feet once she saw us, a grin spreading across her face.

“Here you go, Hannah. Your secret’s safe.” I handed her the notes.  Jean folded his arms with a frown beside me.

“Thank you…” she held them close, staring at the ground in embarrassment.  Her big brown eyes wandered up to meet mine.  “I take it you read them..? What d’you think..?”

“Hm?” I blinked.

“W-Well...would I be someone you’d possibly..?” she tried to finish her sentence.  This was so awkward.  It wasn’t her feelings, it was the fact that I have feelings for the pouting idiot beside me.

“I’m sorry, Hannah...” I began.  Immediately after the words left my mouth, she pressed her lips into a thin line, obviously disappointed.  I glanced around nervously.  “I mean, you’ll find someone much better suited for you than me.”

She scoffed up a small laugh.  “Who could be better for me than you?”

_‘Someone who’s actually attracted to women, maybe...’_ I cleared my throat, glancing off.

“It’s alright. I totally get it.” she nodded.  Relieved, I smiled.  “You like someone else.”

My smile faded.  That much is obvious to her, but not the fact that I’m gay? Jean slid his eyes toward me with arched eyebrows.  I had to get the attention off of me and get this over with.  I laughed it off and shook my head.

“Ah, well uh…”

“Don’t worry, it isn’t me, so it isn’t my business.” she held her hand up.  “I'll wait, Marco. You're smart, so I know you'll wise up sometime!"

"Alright, alright, you got your stupid notes and your rejection," Jean stepped between us. "It's time we left."

She huffed, collecting herself, and rushed into the Girls' Dorm.  I elbowed Jean for his harsh farewell and started sneaking off to the Boys Dorm.  Jean looked over at me, flashing that smile of his, then redirected his attention back ahead.  I felt my face flush once again.  

"Staying with me tonight?"

He blinked, a hint of gladness in his eyes.  "Really? I mean, are you asking as in I should, or--"

"I'm saying you should. Your room isn't...safe for you these days, y'know?" I shrugged, though we both knew that bullshit.  Still, he went with it.  When we got to my room, we weren't tired in the slightest, especially since it's a Friday night, so we just stayed up together, talking and...getting to know eachother better...

Friends would love a chance to do these things, but I don't think of Jean as a friend.  Now that I'm thinking about it, I wonder if I ever really did? I look at him as he speaks, feeling a lightness in my heart that he feels comfortable enough to truly talk to me as his friend, but I feel a significant heaviness, because that's all he sees me as.  I wonder what he sees when he looks at me...I see a flawed individual.  He's vulgar, short-tempered, jealous, bad at communicating his feelings, and just everything I'm not...But I also see someone with incredible talent, he wears his heart on his sleeve, he's overwhelming empathetic and compassionate, and I realize those traits--and all of his flaws--are the reasons why I like him.  

I like Jean Kirschstein. All of him. And it pains me to think that he will never know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah I haven't posted in 3 weeks....finals and work and coming back home and all that....sorry about that...but oh god now that I'm back home I'm so ready to update more. This story has been my stress relief since it began, so even if I don't get that many reviews, I'm just happy to be writing again!


	8. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bowl of Skittles mixed with M&Ms, Itching powder, and flaming dog shit. No treats this Halloween.

Jean

 

 

I slept in Marco’s room again last night.  I mean--hey, he offered, and Connie _really_ wanted to kill me, so it only made sense, right? The night before, we got so high, we ended up sleeping in the same bed.  Last night, though, I wondered if he’d make a place for me on the floor or something, but he didn’t.  We just sat together on his full sized bed, screwing around and talking shit, until we grew tired and fell asleep next to eachother.  I can’t help but notice that I slept much better when I was next to him.  Unlike sleeping in my own bed, I felt...safe here. Maybe after years of having to watch my back, with Marco, I can finally relax a little.

I woke up before my 11AM alarm and sat up to take a stretch.  I looked over at him, sleeping soundly on his side, completely wrapped up in the covers.  I frowned, because I was fucking cold last night, but forgave him because--hey, it’s his bed and I don’t have to be here, and if that wasn’t reason enough, just look at him.  He always has the covers pulled all the way to his nose, only leaving his freckled face and ridiculous bed hair to be seen.

There I go, staring at the kid again.  Honestly, what was going on with me? I lay back, seriously contemplating my sensitivity towards Marco and exactly why it existed.  I always had trouble distinguishing the difference between platonic and romantic feelings, and that was the sole reason every relationship I’ve ever had failed miserably.  I didn’t want to make the same mistake and fuck things up with Marco. This friendship I forced us into actually turned my intentions into a joke and became something special, something I genuinely wanted to protect.

I didn't want to jump the gun and assume I was developing feelings for him, I couldn't be too sure, since he's the only real friend I've had in such a long time...

"Fuck..." I sighed, not liking this confusion one bit.

“Jean…” I heard him mumble.  

“Hm?” My head quickly turned to see if I woke him up.  No answer.  He was still sleeping. My eyebrows rose and my face got a little warmer. Is he dreaming about me?

I shifted on my side, facing him. His wispy brown bangs dangled over his eyes, and I caught myself gently brushing them away. He's even got freckles on his eyelids. I wondered how I would even begin counting them all.

I never grasped the concept of personal space, so I won't take the blame here. Suddenly, banging on Marco's door shook me away from him.

"Knock knock! You guys home?" Kenny's voice called from Marco's door. Marco flinched, completely disturbed by the sound of his voice. "Comin' in!"

Kenny Ackerman opened the door with a two bags in his hands.  Once he saw us together, he stopped in his tracks and tilted his head at us with that smug smile of his.  I sighed and sat up, rubbing my eyes, prepared to hear whatever it was he had to say.

“Well, well, well! I’m a little hurt, Bodt!” he began.  Marco, who was just waking up beside me, immediately widened his eyes at Kenny standing in his room.  Kenny, even after seeing his seemingly frightened reaction, continued.  “Why wasn’t I invited to this cute little sleepover? If you and Jean wanted the bed that badly, I don’t mind takin’ the floor.”

“What’s with the bags, Kenny?” I changed the subject, pointing my chin to his hands.  He perked up and rushed toward the bed, dumping both bags at our feet.  Two Halloween costumes lay on the bed, still in the plastic wrapping.

“Surprise! I did all the shopping for you. Go ahead and get dressed after dinner.” he said.  He handed me one bag, and tossed Marco the other.  I snorted at my black skeleton suit and looked over to see what Marco got.  My eyebrows furrowed at Marco holding up a pink bunny onesie, complete with a douchey bowtie and fluffy tail.

“Aw, Kenny, what the hell is this?” I pinched the costume.  Marco, who was visibly disappointed for a split second just glanced at the the two of us and cracked a smile.

“Haha! Thanks, Kenny.”

Even more confused than before, I looked over at Kenny, then back to Marco.  Didn’t he hate this? Was this some kind of joke? Kenny stuck his hands in his pockets with a grin.

“You like it?”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Marco answered.  He sounded like himself, but at the same time, something about the way he spoke was throwing me off.

“Marco, are you…” I blinked, face still stuck in a scowl.  He folded his costume and smiled at me.

“Let’s eat, guys! I’m hungry.”

“I’m with Marco! Hurry up, Jean.” Kenny slapped my arm, following Marco out of the room.  I just hung my feet off the bed, still wondering if I was missing something here.  I asked Marco just last night how he really felt about Kenny, and now that I thought about it, he didn’t give me a definitive answer.  Added to that, the way he suddenly wanted to antagonize the Jocks was strange, too.  Although he carries on like nothing is wrong, I felt it in my gut.

 

_That night..._

 

I wanted this day to draw out for as long as it possibly could, but time was passing way too quickly for my comfort.  Kids were already scattered around in costume as the sun began to set.  There wasn’t a single one of the Preps in sight.  Kenny was giddy with anticipation.

“Suit up, men! There’s work to do…” a twisted smile grazed Kenny’s face.  I looked over at Marco, who passively trailed Kenny back to the Boys’ dorm.  He had this blank look on his face, like he wasn’t happy, but he was really trying not to seem upset.  He must’ve felt my eyes on him, since he looked back at me and offered that warm smile of his. I nudged him as soon as I felt my frown coming on, signaling that I knew something was up with him. He softly nudged me back with the same smile, insisting everything was fine. Marco was much better at communicating than me, so it's extremely frustrating when he's obviously hiding something and refusing to talk.

Of course, Marco’s room was where we headed first.  Kenny watched the two of us stroll inside and shut the door behind us.  He turns to the two of us with a sly grin and fishes something out of the bag he set down this morning. A heavy duty pack of itching powder and a sack of marbles.

"You really did some shopping, huh?" I scratched my head. "What's with all this anyway, dude? Why're you so fixated on the preps?"

"It just doesn't make any sense, Jean. It doesn't make any sense that they'd just let you outta their group with no strings attached." He bit the tip of his thumb and started to pace. "Christa makes sure not to bother you, even now. Why?"

"I haven't done anything to piss her off, so why would she?" I folded my arms and glanced off.

The truth of the matter was after I left that group, I made an oath to Christa to keep her real identity a secret, since only certain members of her group know. In return, her faction was free to terrorize anyone they pleased but me. I was never supposed to find out in the first place, but considering Hitch and I dated, it came out. I know a lot of things about Christa Lenz, and one of them was that she was purely trustworthy. I knew she would keep her word if I kept mine. So far, things between us were cordial, especially since nobody noticed, but of course, Kenny Ackerman did.

"No way. I don't trust 'em. I don't trust this party your ex is inviting the Jocks to, either. They're trying to form an alliance...they're trying to ruin us!" He kept pacing.

"What are you _talking_ about?” Marco furrowed his eyebrows.

"We're gonna sneak into the party and play a bunch of pranks on the jocks and frame the preps. We gotta isolate these factions before we get them under our control."

I rolled my eyes. "Fucking hell, is that what all this is about? What is this god-complex you've got goin' on?"

"You call my ambition a complex? I'm tryna get us to the top, Jean. Julz may not be here to see it but you and me, we will." He nodded. I wanted to ask him if he had any leads on my brother and how to reach him, but he continued. "Alright, boys, get your costumes on. You've even got masks and face paint so we're totally incognito! Let's go!"

He abruptly left the room, leaving Marco and I in an awkward silence. He glanced at me and immediately perked up. "Before or after we do anything stupid, you'll show me around town, right?"

I cracked a smile. "Sure, if you wanna see this shithole that badly."

"I guess first on the list would be Hitch's beach house. How many times have you been over there before?" He asked, ripping the plastic on his costume. The question was so convincingly innocent, but I caught his little undertones. A little taken back, I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Not even that many times!"

"Uh huh, okay." He snorted.  He knew I was lying.

"Just what're you tryna say, Freckles?" I folded my arms.

"I just assumed you'd spend a lot of time there...since you guys were _together_ and all..." He hummed, spreading that hideous rabbit onesie to change into. I just blinked a couple times, finally realizing what this was really about. I smirked, deciding not to think too much about it. He was just curious.

"It was like, one semester...wasn't that big a deal."

Marco was in the middle of taking his shirt off by the time I finished my sentence. His undershirt got stuck over his head since he was--for some reason--in shock. "A _semester_? That's like four months!"

"Need some help there?" I ignored his comment, coming closer.

"Wasn't that big a deal? Yeah, right!" He stumbled toward me for help. I snickered to myself, watching this dope get so distracted about my dating life he can't even take off his clothes. When he felt my hands on him, he stopped moving.

"I mean, I was stupid enough to try and make that train wreck work. She had an obvious thing for my brother. Why bother, right?" I shrugged.

"She didn't deserve you anyway!" Marco exclaimed once we finally got the shirt off. That earnest look on his face made me snort with laughter. "Hey, what's funny?"

"Are you honestly trying to comfort me with a breakup that was a year ago?"

"Well we didn't know eachother then." He simply said. I just have him a warm smile.

"Sucks, doesn't it? I wish I'd met your weird ass sooner." He smiled back, his face turning a shade of red. "I mean, maybe you'd've convinced me not to get so mad about it and throw that can of soup through her window."

"So it's true!" His eyes widened at me. "What kinda soup was it?"

"That's what you're worried about?" My eyebrow arched. He placed his hands on his hips, waiting for an answer. I rolled my eyes. "Clam chowder maybe? I don't fucking remember."

"Honestly, Jean? What a waste." He scoffed, removing his pants next. "I heard the rumors, but I dunno why I never got around to asking..."

I kind of zoned out of our conversation and zoned into how I never noticed how good Marco really looked. I exhaled, realizing how much of a sleaze I am to only notice now that he's half naked. Why'd he have to be so damn tall? And how those freckles sprinkled his sun kissed skin made my face grow hot. His tummy was flat with little budding six pack. I didn't even think to stop staring, not even when my eyes wandered below the belt. Christ, these aren't very platonic feelings I'm having right now...

"Jean," he called. I blinked a few times, snapping out of my thoughts and back to Marco's befuddled stare. "What're you so lost in thought about?"

_'The fact that I'm a horny teenage dirtbag with hormones begging to fuck up our flawless friendship.'_

I blinked. "You got hella freckles..."

"You don't call me freckles for nothing." He said.

_'Nice save, Kirschstein.'_

"Eh, I'll just put this back on, it might get cold." He shrugged, reaching back for his undershirt.

 _'Goodbye, washboard stomach. I'll never know you.'_ I frowned. Once he glanced at me, I glanced off, responding. "And after all the help I gave you taking the damn thing off."

"I know, sorry." He laughed. Marco's laugh was becoming one of my new favorite sounds.  

I could feel Marco starting to feel awkward with the silence wafting over the room.  It must be, since he has no idea how hard I was staring at him and the things I was thinking.  I could never dream of telling him.  I mean, forget that I’m a total chickenshit unable to admit or communicate his own feelings effectively--what are the odds of him walking around in his underwear in front of me again if I did _that_? And, well, yeah, also the fact that he’s genuinely comfortable with me is pretty important, too.  I just stood there, hopeless, half naked and watching him shuffle around his room in his underwear.  

Honestly, this was probably the strangest way I figured out that I liked someone.

“Yo! Are we--what're you two doing?" Marco's door flew open. Kenny, in costume, stood there with a befuddled expression. Of all the things he could've been for Halloween...

"You're a cowboy?" I blinked.

"And you're naked?" He shot back, tugging his red bandana over his nose. "C'mon, both of you!"

"Alright, alright...the party ain't til’ about an hour from now anyway." I got myself into my skeleton suit. Kenny turned to Marco with a twisted smile. Marco, obviously reluctant to put on that hideous bunny suit, looked away from Kenny.

"Well, Marco? Hop to it, yeah?" Kenny snorted. I rolled my eyes.

"Honestly, Kenny?"

"What? It'll be funny! Right, Marco?" Kenny tilted his head. Kenny's general disposition was pretty threatening, so I wasn't sure if he was looking that way on purpose or not. All I knew was that there was something about he and Marco today.

The three of us were dressed up, masks and all. Kenny had Marco carry the backpack with all the prank material in it. Once we left the dorm, as expected, the entrance gates were open, and kids were coming and going as they pleased. I glanced at marco, the curiosity in his eyes growing by the second.

This town was nothing special, but if Marco wanted to see it, I'd make it so.

The Delyss beach house was a fifteen minute car ride into town. Naturally, Kenny hailed a cab. Kenny Ackerman was usually pretty generous with his money--hence buying our costume as well as this taxi--if things worked to his advantage in the end, that is.

I couldn't help but notice Marco inch toward the bus stop at first. Yesterday, he let it slip that he and his mother came from "humble beginnings", and that he wasn't biologically related to the CEO of Sina Television Network...he wasn't the heir to that fortune. I wondered how many times he and his mom had to catch a public bus before he rode his his father's luxury cars. He joked about his parents giving him a new sibling by the end of the semester, but what if it's true? What if they just left him here and will forget about him once they have their real legacy? He had to think about this kind of stuff.

"You're awfully quiet, Jean-y." Kenny said from the front seat. I snapped out of my thoughts, only giving an incoherent mumble in response.

"Nice rabbit costume, kid." The driver snorted as Marco rolled his eyes a bit, ignoring the comment.

The balding man caught my glare and flicked his eyes to the road. Still, I chided. "Yeah that's a nice haircut you got goin on, buddy. Reverse Mohawk gonna be a big hit I bet."

Marco glanced at me with a smile while Kenny burst out laughing. "What’s got _you_ all bent?"

“I swear, you kids these days don’t show a shred of respect!” the driver growled.  “I don’t have to put up wit’ this, y’know! You could walk!”

I was about to go at it with him again, but Marco nudged my leg, shaking his head.  I folded my arms and grumbled my insults to myself.  Kenny calmed the driver down and promised him we’d be out of the car in no time.  He handed the driver an extra twenty "for his trouble", and pointed in the next direction.

"Right over this way is good." Kenny held his hand up, signaling the driver to come to a stop. Once we stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath. The last time I was out here was last Halloween...when my brother was arrested. I looked over at Kenny, who was adjusting his bandana over his face. Our eyes met and although I tried to play it off, he came toward me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Thanks, Jean."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Thanks?"

"For doing this with me! I know it's difficult for you to come back to all this after what happened..." He shook me in his arm. I caught Marco at the corner of my eye, watching as he trailed the two of us on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, I wanna talk to you about that..." I began. Once he noticed I was slowing down, he removed his arm from around me and skipped ahead.

"I promise, we'll talk later, but for now, let's do what we came here to do."

I huffed, following along to the Prep party. Marco cracked a smile, one that felt more forced than ever. The fuzzy material from the hand of his costume fell on my shoulder, and my eyes were met with his warm smile. "You seem a little edgy."

"Am I honestly the only one around here who thinks nothing's weird?" I asked. "I mean, this isn't like you, Marco."

"This definitely isn't like me, but I didn't do the shopping, y'know?" Marco scoffed, referring to his costume.

What’s frustrating about this whole thing is that he's obviously hiding something, but he's so good at hiding it. I was getting a little irritated. "I meant provoking people. What's with you wanting to fuck with the jocks all of a sudden?"

Marco faltered a little, not knowing what to say. His eyes darted toward Kenny, who looked back at me and began to speak.

"What're you on about, Kirschstein? This ain't 'all of a sudden'. Those roid monkeys started it! They messed with Marco the other day, and that little Springer shitstain messed with you yesterday! They got it coming, right?"

That always was my motto, to give people what they have coming to them...but on my terms. This seems a little off.

The autumn breeze blew a little harsher against my painted face as we walked closer to the water. I recognized Garrison students wandering about, positive they were headed to the party.

"How are we getting in? It's not like we were invited." Marco pointed out. Kenny gazed up at the large house, then back at me with a grin.

"Jean knows.”

“I do?” I jerked my head toward him.

“You used to be over that place at all weird hours of the night. What, you tellin’ me her parents just let you walk through the front door?” he folded his arms.

Oh, that’s right.  Kenny snickered as I lead the way around the house.  I guess I can say I did a pretty good job of blocking out all the time I spent with Hitch, and that I actually used to feel something for her.

Some days, usually on weekends, I would go into town and climb up to her room up on the second story.  Hitch’s parents were sometimes there, they were sometimes not, it all depended on their schedule.  It hardly mattered since they hardly paid any attention to her or much of anything she did.  As long as she didn’t embarrass the Dreyse family in a major way--like she did when she was enrolled at the Garrison in the first place--she’s entitled to do whatever she wants.

I placed my hand against the gate and shook it, just thinking of how long I hadn’t climbed the thing.  Kenny went ahead and started climbing up to her room window.  Marco and I looked at eachother, then reluctantly back at the gate we had to climb.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we shared a mutual thought of just leaving Kenny Ackerman to his own devices while we headed back to the school, or take a tour of the city, or really any fucking thing else...however, I nudged him along.

“Go on up, Marco. I’m right behind you.”

Just as downcast as he’d been all day, he just nodded and started climbing up the gate.  By the time I started climbing, Kenny was already inside Hitch’s bedroom.  At least now we know it’s vacant.  

I didn't even realize I was standing in place for as long as I did, being brought back to all the memories I blocked out about this place, this room.  Marco tilted his head toward me, probably wondering if I was alright staring into space like that.  I snapped out of my thoughts and followed Kenny to the door.  He tiptoed out, waving us over since the coast was clear.

The bass from the music downstairs was booming, and kids were hanging out and having a good time.  We were so used to each clique only interacting with their own, we couldn’t help but feel a little off watching the Preps and the Jocks mixing.  

We didn’t have to sneak around too much, since our faces were hidden behind masks and makeup, but it was only effective on a passing glance, so we can’t stay in one place for too long or interact with anyone at all.  

I caught a glimpse of Reiner and Christa at the stairs.  Bertholdt was standing behind Reiner, very obviously disinterested in this entire party and especially Christa.  Reiner, on the other hand, was very obviously interested in Christa; he was trying really hard (and failing) to get her to notice that.

“I’m so happy you came, Reiner. It means a lot to have you on our side, you know.” Christa smiled.  A smile grazed Reiner’s face as Bertholdt rolled his eyes.

“So it is an alliance. What’d I tell you guys?” Kenny scoffed.

“Yeah, totally,” Reiner nodded.  “Now, uh...would you wanna maybe talk more about this new friendship over at BurgerShack across town? I swear, their burgers are to die for.”

“Er...probably not. You see, I’m a vegan…” Christa began to say.

“Really? That’s interesting. No worries, I’m sure they have chicken.” Reiner nodded, inching closer to the nervous girl.

“God…” Bertholdt grumbled, hopelessly placing his hand in his palm.

Christa glanced down at her flashing phone, then back up at Reiner with a pasted on smile.  “I’ll have to catch up with you later, I’m going to...the bathroom…”

The three of us settled on a secluded spot away from most of the other party goers.  Kenny gestured his head toward the snack table. "Grab the bowl of M&Ms."

I glanced at my two accomplices, then headed to the snack table and swiped the bowl of candy, curious of what he'd want with it. He pulled out a bag of skittles and began pouring the tangy with chocolate, a combination no one on earth deserved to experience, but Kenny Ackerman was ruthless. He handed the bowl back to me without a twinge of remorse, only the twisted smile of anticipation on his face. Marco knelt beside him, shaking his head like the angel on my shoulder, but I couldn't listen to him, not when we came this far.

I placed it back on the table and awaited the first victims.

"Ooh, M&Ms." A voice hummed. It was Marlowe. His hand came up from the bowl and he popped one of the bite sized candies into his mouth, leaving me confused and slightly irritated.

"Who the fuck eats one at a time?" Kenny scoffed as I shook my head. Marlowe's eyebrows furrowed.

"These are skittles, not M&Ms..."

"No, we got M&Ms." Bertholdt chimed in. A preppy kid, deciding to put an end to this, shoved his hand into the bowl and threw a handful into his mouth. I cringed at the sight. As expected, he rushed to the nearest trash can and spat everything out.

"They mixed the M&Ms with skittles!"

Bertholdt, understandably baffled, just shook his head. "I coulda sworn we got M&Ms..."

"I don't think this is really funny, Bertl." Marlowe folded his arms.

" _What?_ " I flinched under the hostility of Bertholdt's voice. Kenny found this absolutely hysterical. He nudged Marco and pointed at the couch in the living room. Marco slowly tore open the packet of itching powder and waited for his chance.  Connie was sitting there with another Jock and more Preppies.  They seemed to be getting along well enough, and it seemed that one of the Preps suggested leaving the spot for drinks.  Once the group left, Marco snuck over and wandered in front of the couch, holding the packet of itching powder behind his back innocently.  The couch was against the wall, so no one would see it behind his back, he was keeping watch for anyone in front of him or beside him to look over and catch what he was doing.  He quickly finished, put the packet down on the couch, and rushed back to our side.

“Nice, Freckles.” Kenny clapped him hard on the back.  Marco flinched, glaring over at Kenny underneath his bunny hood.  He saw me looking, and once again smiled to assure me that things were fine when I knew they definitely weren’t.

"H-Hey! What the hell?!" I heard Connie’s voice.  I looked over and saw him jump up, clawing at his ninja costume.  Reiner and Bertholdt made their way from the snack table toward Connie making an ass of himself.  Reiner started laughing, while Bertholdt got a little closer to the couch, studying the situation a little closer.

"What's your damage, Springer? Told you to lay off that bud, dude, makes you crazy." Reiner cackled, about to plop down on the couch.

"W-Wait don't sit--!" Bertholdt cried, obviously seeing the packet Marco left on the couch, but Reiner was already on the couch, looking lost.

"What's all this yelling in here?" Hitch came in and stood next to Marlowe.

"HOLY FUCKING CHRIST WHAT IS WITH YOUR COUCH?" Reiner leaped off of the couch, scratching violently.

"What are you two doing?!" Marlowe stood in front of Hitch protectively.

"You should fucking know!" Bertholdt snapped, throwing the empty packet at Marlowe, causing Hitch to flinch.

"Hey! Don't get snippy with me, roid rage!" Marlowe shot back.  “You got a lot of nerve accusing us of doing this after what you pulled with the candy!”

"I'm so itchy!" Connie cried.

Hitch held her hands to her head, only able to watch as her party began to go up in flames. Reiner bumped into Connie before falling to the floor, writhing onto the carpet to relieve the itch.

"Are they gonna be alright?" Marco asked.

"After a few minutes, maybe. C'mon." Kenny called.

Reiner squinted down at a cellphone on the floor. He pulled his shirt off in frustration. "Damn it, Connie! You still talkin' to that stoner chick?!"

"Forget Sasha, these Preppies’re tryna make us look like jackasses!" Connie barked.

“You don’t need our help to do that, Itchy n’ Scratchy…” Hitch folded her arms with a sneer as more Preps giggled from the remark.  Bad move.

In the midst of the growing prep versus jock commotion, Kenny, Marco, and I snuck off to the back door.

"Ooh shit this is better than I imagined!" Kenny cackled, wrapping his arm around Marco and my shoulder. Kenny's sadistic excitement was making me uneasy, but instead of confronting him about it, my guard shot up.

"You guys hear that?"

The three of us stopped, hearing voices near the back door. Kenny was the first to go check it out; Marco and I, since our little peep show with the admins last night, were a great deal more hesitant when it came to distant voices in the dark.

"Th-They're probably wondering where I am...I said I was going to the bathroom like, twenty minutes ago..."

“Well, tell ‘em you’re takin’ a shit, who cares? C'mon, stay with me."

My mouth fell agape at the sight of Prep leader Christa and Burnout Leader Ymir together in eachother's arms outside of Hitch's beach house. It was incredibly dark, but I could recognize Ymir's leather jacket glinting in the light, as well as the shine or Christa's long blonde hair.

"Ymir, I think this is going too far...maybe we should..." The blonde started to pull away.

"I'm not going anywhere." Ymir cut her off.

"But..!" Christa began.

"Historia," Ymir held the smaller girl's face in her hands. My stomach flipped. Christa revealed her true identity to Ymir?

"Historia..?" Kenny's head tilted with intrigue. He was the absolute last person who should know this. Ymir rested her head against Christa's.

"I'll tell the whole world how I feel about you, I ain't afraid...but you are." She said.

"Well of course I am! I can't even tell people my real name!" Christa shook her head.

"It’s enough that I know, ain’t it? You don’t have to rush.” she said soothingly.  

"Holy shit...I thought the preps and the burnouts hated eachother..?" Kenny whispered to himself. Before I could question what his intentions were with this new information, we had to take cover. Christa swiftly headed back inside and Ymir made her way to her Vespa.

"Think we can get back to Hitch's room unnoticed?" Marco asked.

A laugh escaped Kenny’s mouth. "Why would we wanna do that?"

Marco was a little unsettled. "I thought you said a couple little pranks and we're outta here..."

"Don't worry, we got one last prank before we do." Kenny unzipped his backpack. Ymir was out of sight, and Christa was probably knee-deep in a clique feud inside, so we had ample time to carry out our next deed.

Kenny pulled a ziplock bag from his backpack, scrunching up his face from the sight of it. It was rotting meat, and even the ziplock bag wasn't enough to keep the stench in.

"What the hell..?" Marco nearly gagged.

"Swiped this from the cafeteria yesterday." Kenny began.

"This did _not_ start rotting overnight!" Marco exclaimed.

"Would've been on your plate for lunch today so you oughta thank me, Freckles." Kenny shoved the bag in Marco’s hands.

"What the hell am I s'posed to do with this?" Marco blinked incredulously.

I heard growling nearby, and when we turned our heads to spot the source, and a relatively large bulldog came scampering out of its kennel. Marco froze; who could blame him when he's the only one here who didn't know this dog, right? It was Christa's dog, Roddy, investigating the three strange men in costume near his kennel.

"Give the puppy a little treat." Kenny said.

"Are you insane?" Marco shook his head incredulously.

"Look, he'll eat the meat, he'll take a shit, we grab the shit, put it in this paper bag, light it on fire, and throw it on the snack table." Kenny calmly explained, as if this was completely normal.

"Did you just fucking hear yourself?" I shoved him. Roddy started to growl, little barks bubbled out of him.

"Hey, Fido's gonna get us caught if we don't act fast." Kenny said.

"Kenny, this is stupid, what if we get it sick?" I asked.

"What d'you care?" He snapped. "What? Being around all these pretentious fucks got you all nostalgic? You miss 'em, huh? Miss Hitch?"

"That's not what this is!" I shoved him again, not mindful of my noise level.

The dog started to bark, causing all of us to flinch. Roddy was coming closer, still barking, and despite how loud the party was from the inside, the dog's bound to attract attention.

"Fine, you spineless shits! I'll do it myself!" Kenny hissed, shoving us out of the way. Marco and I watched as he tore open the ziplock bag, carefully approaching Christa's dog.

"Hey big guy...you remember me, don'tcha?" Kenny said softly. He turned the bag over, letting the bad meat fall out onto the ground. The dog sniffed the bad beef curiously, then started eating it. Kenny dropped the bag, watching with that twisted grin.

"Jean..." Marco called softly. I glanced at him, signaling that I was listening. Roddy started whimpering, looking up at Kenny for help, not knowing he was looking to the same bastard who poisoned him...something about that resonates with me now. Before I could think more on it, however, Marco continued. "Last night, when you asked me how I really felt about Kenny..."

Kenny patted the dog's head as it whimpered in pain, placing the paper bag at its backside. "C'mon, you ugly fucker..."

"This might hurt you later but I can't lie about it anymore..." Marco shook his head.  The hood covered his eyes and nose, so I couldn’t see his face entirely, but I could see the sadness pulling the corners of his lips into a frown.

The dog let out one last whine before I heard waste being dropped into the paperbag. Marco sighed, still shaking his head.

"I lied. I hate him."

I couldn't even ask him to explain, the back door of Hitch's house opened, and we were caught. Marlowe Freudenberg was at the door, and Christa Lenz was with him. Once Christa set her eyes on her dog in the condition Kenny put him in, however, she was livid.

"Roddy...wha...what is this..?" She gasped. She trembled, inching closer as Kenny inches back. "Whoever you are...you will PAY FOR THIS!"

Kenny immediately got the lighter from his pocket and lit the paper bag. Distracted by the flame, Marlowe and Christa stepped back.

"Happy Halloween, Prep bastards! Go Titans!" Kenny shouted as he threw the bag. "Scatter!"

Everything about this was horrifying, almost even moreso than last year when Julien was here. I can't decide which is more awful; the fact that Kenny actually threw a flaming bag of shit at Historia Reiss and her right hand man, or that he so ruthlessly framed the Jocks by shouting their team fanfare before doing it.

All I knew was that we had to get the hell out of here. I felt my arm being yanked, and Marco was leading me through the oncoming chaos. Kenny split into a different direction, and I was confident he would meet with us later. Reiner--completely over the itching powder--wandered outside, only to be met with a swift kick to the balls by little Christa Lenz.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU!?"

"These pranks have gone too far!"

"We didn't start this, you did!"

As much as I didn't condone this bullshit, I had to admit, Kenny's plan for these factions to turn on eachother actually worked. Marco and I were well on our way out of the large house until we bumped into the gracious hostess, my ex-girlfriend, Hitch Dreyse.

"What are you idiots doing?! Get them! Get them!" Christa screamed at her men. I've never seen her this upset before, but the girl standing in front of us was our bigger problem.

" _You_ did this? _You_ ruined my party?" Hitch grew angrier by the second. We pushed past her, almost knocking her over, and headed for the door.

"Get back here you jock pricks!" Marlowe shouted. Beer bottles whipped past my head and crashed against the wall. Marco tightened his grip on my hand and rushed out the door.

I could still hear them, screaming threats and obscenities at us, but with Marco's hand in mine, I wasn't afraid.

"Can't go back to the school." I huffed, tugging him out of that direction.

"Where?" He asked desperately.

"This way." I yanked his arm, headed down a few alleyways and shortcuts until we lost them.

I had no idea how long we had to run, but Marco easily kept up with me, so I wasn’t worried.  The bunny hood toppled off of his head, and his brown, curly hair bobbed in the wind as we ran.  Even as we escape imminent death, I manage to find the time and the nerve to stare at how good he looks.  I glance down at his hand in mine, holding on tightly and not letting go.  As he yanks me out of the way of traffic and drags me through different alleyways and shortcuts, I begin to realize that Marco has never been in this town before and he was literally just running blind.

“Fuck…” I panted, snapping out of my embarrassing distraction and leading the way.  I had no clue where we were going to go, but as long as we're together, it didn't matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kinda odd posting a Halloween chapter on New Year's Eve...but whatever. I'm really trying to get the other characters and their dynamics in way sooner 'cause I have big plans for everyone! Hope you enjoyed this! Next week's forecast is heavy fluff, so stay tuned :)


	9. Solid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want to get the truth out of someone? Get them drunk.

Marco

Jean and I made it out of that house by the skin of our teeth, hand in hand and not looking back for a second.  Did they recognize us at all? Although our faces were covered, did they recognize our voices? I only stopped to wonder because we ended up completely leaving Kenny behind.  Maybe Jean didn’t notice, but I didn’t care.  I was pretty sure we’d stopped being chased as soon as we ran far enough past the neighborhood, but we didn’t stop running until we both were out of breath.  It was dark, and going back to the school wasn’t an option, since it was way past curfew.

Jean and I wandered onto a well-lit block adorned with Halloween decorations along the numerous pubs and bars.  He made his way toward a bench, and didn’t let go of my hand until he plopped down.  I took a seat next to him and collected myself.

“Fuck…” he sighed, slapping his hand to his face.  “We left Kenny!”

My eyes shifted to him.  What was I supposed to say? Especially since I was a little glad that we left Kenny.  I noticed blood on his arm and took the opportunity to change the subject.  “You’re bleeding…”

He looked down at his arm and shrugged.  “They were throwin’ bottles. One must’ve cut me…”

I slowed down, his arm in my hands, looking around for a convenience store or anywhere we could get some sort of first aid.  “Are bars and liquor stores all that exists on this street?”

“Yeah, kinda…” he shrugged.  “It’s fine, we just gotta lay low for a bit and head back to the school before curfew.”

There was no way I was going to let Jean walk around with a bloody arm, not without doing _something_ about it.  I scanned the area, letting him sit down on a nearby bench.

“Nice bunny suit, kid. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” someone from a group of passersby chortled.  The rest of the group snickered and laughed, and before Jean could berate them, I realized that they were well on their way to being drunk already.

“H-Hey, wait!” I called.

“Marco, what’re you..?” Jean gave me a befuddled expression.  The group of friends stopped to see what I wanted.  I unzipped my suit, pulling my wallet out right away.

“Listen, I really need help. My friend’s hurt, he’s bleeding.” I stepped toward Jean, and they followed.  I had their full attention once they saw the bleeding coming from his arm.  “D’you think you could maybe splash some vodka on his wound before we head back to the other side of town?”

For the most part, they were sympathetic, but one guy in the group scoffed, folding his arms.  He was obviously the most sober.  “Like hell I’ll buy a bottle of vodka for a couple of teenagers! Y’think I was born yesterday?”

“He didn’t even say to buy ‘im a full bottle, dude. Just pour enough over the cut.  Lookit the kid’s arm, man! It’s bad…” another guy in the group argued.

“I’ll pay for it, with interest...for your trouble.” I whipped a hundred dollar bill, staring him right in the face.  His mouth fell open at the money I so easily flashed out of my pocket.  Figuring he wasn’t satisfied, I pulled out another hundred.  “I’ll pay you a hundred to buy the bottle, an extra hundred for interest, and all your friends get a fifty for accompanying you in and out of the store. That sound fair?”

“We want a hundred, too!” one of his friends sputtered.

“Shut the fuck up, Ray.” the man I was speaking to snapped.  He looked back at Jean and I with furrowed eyebrows, then regained his composure.  “I get it. You two are from that rich school across town. Heh, I’m bustin’ my ass to put my kid through college when he’ll probably end up workin’ for one of you anyway!”

“Fuck all that noise, Kevin, if you won’t take the offer, then I will. I gotta eat.” a woman pushed through her group of friends and snatched the $200 out of my hand.  “I’ll be right back.”

The entire group followed her into the nearest liquor store, glancing back and forth at us the entire way.  I exhaled, trying to ignore the prior comments, and took a seat next to Jean.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” he shook his head.  I really didn’t, but I could tell he was tired from protecting me most of the night, and he ended up getting hurt because of me.  I had to help somehow.

"Well I'm doing it, okay?" I nudged his knee with mine. A pause loomed over the two of us, all that can be heard was the drunken laughter and festive chaos laying over this sector of the town. To be honest, I had no idea how the two of us would return to school. Curfew is in thirty minutes and there was no way we were going to make it, especially when the preps and the jocks are on high alert. I had half a mind to shoot Armin a text but our alliance had been a little distant lately, and they're probably all asleep by now.

"Hey Marco," Jean broke the silence, staring down at the ground. I pulled the stupid bunny hood from my head and looked over at him. "You gonna explain what you meant earlier? About Kenny..?"

I have no idea what possessed me to say all those things, especially when Kenny was in earshot. Maybe he heard, maybe not, but the important thing is that Jean heard, and he wants to know. I just sighed, wondering where I would even begin.

"One bottle of the good shit! Teeny bottle for the teeny boppers." The group of adults I paid off finally came out of store and handed me a paper bag. I felt the weight of the bottle on my lap and looked up at the strangers. "Yeah I even took off my shirt so you can wrap that busted arm of yours."

"Thanks so much, guys."

"Thank _you_ , rich boy!" They cheered as they walked off. I stood up in front of Jean, who just looked up at me with that scowl of his. He was still expecting me to answer his questions about Kenny, but I wanted to take care of his arm first...and also get my thoughts together on how I would explain my feelings about Kenny.

"C'mon, we can't exactly be seen with this." I took his hand. It took a minute, but before I knew it, Jean was leading. It was something so simple, the fact that Jean knows exactly where to go just made me feel safe, that I could depend on him. It didn't matter to me where we went or how long we were there, so long as we were together.

"'Kay, this is gonna sting," I opened the bottle of vodka.  Jean was hesitant, but he wanted to seem like he wasn't. I took his arm and poured the vodka over the cut.

"Mother _f_ _ucker_..!" He hissed, about to snatch his arm back. I held his hand, offering him to squeeze instead.

"Hey, I gave you a fair warning, right?"

"Ugh." He scowled at me.  I really didn’t want to put that sweaty guy’s shirt over his arm, but it was what we had to make due with for now.  “Any particular reason you’re takin’ such good care of me tonight, Bodt?”

_‘Uh, well, you take care of me way more than you have to and if you hadn’t noticed, I have a crush on you the size of Texas...’_ I thought, almost opening my mouth to say, but I tightened the fabric around his arm, switching his focus to the pain.  I glanced up at him with a smile.  “Well, you’re gonna give me that tour I wanted, right?”

“Hah…” he rubbed the back of his head nervously.  I chuckled, knowing it wouldn’t be tonight...but when, I wondered? He walked up ahead, expecting me to follow.  I did, wondering what he had in store for me.

“Hey, what’re you gonna do with the rest of that bottle?” he asked.  I narrowed my eyes at him, clutching it in my hand.

“We don’t need it anymore.”

“My dad says there’s _always_ a use for vodka.” he motioned for me to give it to him.

“Yeah and we already used it.” I moved to find the nearest trashcan.

“Oh, c’mon, Marco, don’t be such a narc. One shot. Both of us.” he insisted, jumping in my path.  “You sure you’re not just scared?”

“ _Scared?_ ” I almost laughed, coming to a stop.  “You’re the one who’s gonna get carried away and I’ll have to carry you back to the room before you can drown in your own vomit.”

“I bet you’re a lightweight.” a grin grazes his face.

“I’m the heir to a multi-million dollar company, Jean. No lightweights here.” I told him, folding my arms.

“Ooh, I’m Marco Bodt, I’m bragging about how much money I’m gonna to another guy--who’s gonna make almost as much money--because I’m too chickenshit to take a shot.” he started waving his hands.

“Honestly.” I nodded, folding my arms.  “Real mature.”

“I blew $250 on this baby ass bottle of vodka and I’m gonna throw it away ‘cause I’m a wuss.” he got closer.

“You’re a jerk, y’know.” I shoved him away, trying not to laugh.  “I don’t even sound like that.”

He laughed, rushing back in front of me and took my hand, the one holding the bottle, of course, and opened the bottle.  

I wonder if he knew what he was doing, staring me directly in the eyes like this.  His amber eyes burned with impulse, and I knew this was a bad idea, but I just watched as he held my hands in his, tilting the bottle toward his mouth and pouring the pungent liquid into his mouth.  He leaned his head back to swallow, and I saw a little bit trickled down his mouth and neck from how he rushed the drink.  Leaning in a licking it off crossed my mind...and stayed there for a good minute, but I expelled the thought from my brain.  All the more reason for me not to do this.

“Ahh..!” he squeezed his eyes shut and jerked his head away, exhaled roughly, trying to numb the burning in his throat.  He looked back at me, a smirk pulling at his lips.  “Your turn.”

I shouldn’t.  I have enough obscene thoughts running through my head sober.  Self control and sobriety go hand in hand, don’t they? What did it matter, though? What was the difference being drunk and having the one you like constantly in your personal space?

He held the bottle to my lips and I tilted my head back, ready for the swig.  The alcohol filled my mouth, and just like every shot I’ve ever taken, I hear my ex boyfriend’s voice telling me,

_“Don’t think, don’t taste, just swallow.”_

Although I can’t remember if it was for taking shots or for the blowjob I ended up giving him, but whatever the case, it was sound advice, right?  Vodka was just rubbing alcohol, and no one could tel me otherwise, but Jean was set on finishing the bottle.  Neither of us had a chaser on us, and no stores were open to buy juice, so the more we drank, the deeper in trouble I felt us sinking in.

There weren’t that many Garrison students out here, none that had anything to do with Hitch’s party, at least.  We were pretty far away from the residential side of town, and more so near the shops and stands.  This town was dreary and plain.  There were no big tall buildings or flashing lights...there didn’t seem to be any need.  Who--besides the wealthy spoiled brats of the rich and famous--actually even stays here, anyway?

“I’m uh..takin’ you to town hall. I can show you everything there...” Jean muttered.  He was slipping much faster than I thought.

“Y’know, my mom and I...we used to live in a place that looked like this.” I said, looking around at all the closed stores and streets sprinkled with people.

“Sorry to hear that.” Jean cringed.

I laughed and punched his arm.  “It really wasn’t as bad as you think.”

“You’re right. Nothing could be as bad as living here for months at a time.” he shrugged, continuing into the town square.

“Well, there’s going back home.” I muttered.  I felt him staring at the corner of my eye, and immediately regretted letting that slip out.  I thought he would say something, but instead, he came to a jerky stop.  I followed suit, wondering why.  He pointed up at the building we were in front of.

“See that billboard..? We...gonna sit on it. You ‘n me. Let’s sit on the billboard.” he nodded, as if he was talking himself into it, too.  I was slipping too far to say it was a horrible idea.

“J-Jean, Jean, you’re drunk.” I started to laugh.

“Not more than _you_ , Freckles!” he took my hand.  Not my arm, or my wrist, but he had his hand in my hand.  Shit.  “Best fuckin’ view in this shitty place…”

I’m not drunk enough to ignore this.

“Just be careful, alright..?” I said softly.

“Just trust me.” he smiled. That smile always got me, and I think he knew that. That smile was probably what got me to follow him up the building ladder, and up the billboard ladder. Jean Kirschstein's smile could get me to follow him almost anywhere.

It isn't like I regret it.

The view was amazing.  It was no big city, and we weren't that high up, but the breeze hitting us from where we were, the lights from the billboard, and the vodka numbing anything that could possibly be uncomfortable, it was nice.

“You gonna spill now, Freckles?” he scooted next to me.  I had no idea what he was talking about.  All I could focus on was his side pressed against mine as we were leaned back against the billboard.  

The small vodka bottle was dry as a bone.  I pulled Snapper from Jean’s pocket and locked the bottle onto it.  I stretched the elastic as far back as it could go and let go.  The bottle went flying off into the night, until we finally heard it shatter in the distance.

“What were you even aiming for?” Jean snorted.

“Nothing.” I shrugged.  I stared down at Snapper, rubbing my thumb over the glazed wood of the hilt.  Everytime I looked at this slingshot before, I only thought of Jean and how much it meant to him...but everytime I look at it now, I remember why it means so much to him.  Julien was out there somewhere, and Jean wants - more than anything - to meet him again...and whether I liked it or not, Kenny Ackerman was his only lead.  I sighed, realizing what his prior question meant.  “You know why I hate Kenny?”

“If it’s about this costume, I’d hate ‘im, too.” he said.  I snorted, causing Jean to laugh at his own comment, the dork. This was going to be difficult, but I couldn't escape this.

"D'you ever get the feeling...something's off about 'im?" I asked. Jean just rocked from side to side, considering.

"Sometimes, like tonight, it feels kinda like...he doesn't have a conscience..."

_'Sometimes? Kinda?'_ I scoffed, shifting my eyes to him.

"He wasn't always like that, though...maybe Julien bein' gone got to im in it's own way, y'know..?" Jean mumbled, as if he was trying to convince himself of this.

"D'you really think...he knows anything about your brother?" I asked. A pause loomed over us once again. I looked over at him, trying to read his face, but the dim light and my heavy eyelids made it difficult.

"He's just...always gotta way, y'know? Always gotta plan. He woulda gotta holda Julz somehow, right?" Jean leaned back against the billboard.

"I don't doubt that at all...I just don't think he's been trying." I said. I looked away with a sigh. "He said if I didn't talk you into going to this party, he'd walk out on us. Basically if I don't do what he says and get you on board, too, he'll...he'll ruin everything for us, he'll keep everything about Julz from you."

"What..?!" Jean exploded, genuinely shocked Kenny would try to blackmail me of all people.

"I didn't want you to go through that, Jean...I know you didn't wanna do this, but...I also know what Kenny's capable of...I want you to be with your brother..." I said. "Even if it means wearing this stupid ass costume."

I couldn't look at Jean as I explained how evil Kenny is, not while leaving out the fact that I was still keeping something from him...the real reason Kenny blackmailed me. Kenny knows about my crush on Jean...will that come back to haunt me..?

"When I asked you how you felt about 'im before...is that when he blackmailed you into doing this..?" Jean inquired. I nodded, biting down on my lip. Jean huffed, obviously frustrated about all of this. I couldn't help but feel relieved that he believed me. "That little fucker..."

"Sorry..." I mumbled. He looked over at me, confused.

"For what?"

"Once he finds out I told you, he'll leave. He's your only lead in finding your brother, right?" I hung my head.

Jean grabbed my arm, causing me to look over at him. "I'd rather do the bidding of my parents and get my info from them than do another damn thing for Kenny while he's still hurting you."

Those pretty hazel eyes were sincere. I exhaled out of relief. When I saw how quiet he was about this news, I immediately felt bad again. "W-Well, I know you two were friends, so..."

"Ah, I don't care about that. The friend I found in Kenny left a long time ago." He shrugged.

I knew Jean was used losing friends, but Kenny wasdifferent. He was feeling worse about this than he let on, and I wanted to push the matter, but I just looked away with a shrug. "Too bad I didn't get to meet that Kenny."

Jean cracked a smile, shaking his head. "Yeah...man, the bullshit he got me out of."

"Like what?" I started to laugh, glad the mood was lifting.

"When I was in regular school, there was a teacher I hated. I spray painted his car, got in trouble, thought that was the end of it...but he ended up workin' here for a while and gave me hell. Kenny usually saved me from the brunt of whatever payback was in store for me." Jean explained.

"Spray painted...dicks, right?" I snorted.

"How'd you know?" Jean blinked.

"I heard a lot about you when I first got here." I told him. "That other thing true, too?"

"What other thing?" He asked. I hummed, figuring we were close enough for me to ask now..figuratively and literally.  Jean added. "I mean, there're a lot of other things, y'know?"

"W-Well," I tried to find my nerve. "I heard about a certain incident with another guy in the back of a bus..."

"Incident, huh..? Well, I guess t can be called that, since we were caught after all." He scratched his temple. "That particular relationship left a bad taste in my mouth. No pun intended."

"Oh God." I rolled my eyes at his joke. I chuckled. "Why didn't you tell me you're gay?"

"'Cause I'm not." He answered.

My eyebrows furrowed. "You sucked another guy's dick. What'd you do, say 'No homo' afterward?"

"I don't like just guys, genius." He snorted, punching me in the arm. I rubbed my arm, realizing that he really wasn't gay. Why didn't I consider that he was bisexual?

"I _did_ date Hitch. I mean, horrible decision, but I did like her." He nudged me, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry." I laughed. "All this time, I thought you were straight...I mean, up until yesterday when we saw the admins in the office like that. What you said back there was most definitely _not_ straight."

Jean gave me a side-eye.  “C’mon. That was hot.”

I didn't even realize how hard I was smiling to myself until I saw him staring. A little embarrassed to be caught being too glad about this, I chuckled nervously and looked away. He suddenly started laughing, which only further embarrassed me. He must've felt so awkward, he couldn't help but laugh.  We were so drunk, whatever we were really feeling must have come out, but I couldn't help but feel nervous.

"Er, was that weird? That was a bit of a weird reaction, wasn't it?" I said in response to his laughing.

He shrugged. "Not really, it's just uh...this is the most excited anyone's ever been to my coming out."

"I-I mean, I'm not alone, y'know?" I scratched his head awkwardly.

"I didn't know you felt that way. I'm just so used to being upfront about it." He said. "Probably 'cause my brother was my biggest support system. Against this place, against my family...everything…”

I just stared at him, drunk and ramble on about he and his brother’s childhood.  It seemed like the more he told me, the more I felt that I was meant to meet him.  Besides Julien, nobody in Jean’s life seemed to understand him.  Not his parents, not his classmates, not much of anybody.  I admit, I didn’t take to him so easily, either, but I was too busy fighting off an inevitable attraction to give him a chance right away.

“My mom always did say I was a problem child. I dunno, whenever I wasn't drawin', I just can't keep outta trouble." He said. "Everyone says I'm bein' really ungrateful for acting the way I do coming from a privileged family n' all, but I just feel like...I never asked for any of this, y'know?"

I nodded. I knew exactly what he meant. Everyone wanted this life, but they have no idea just how lonely it really is.

"After a while, my parents just got sick of my shit and figured this place would straighten me out." He said. He chuckled and put his hand on his face, as if he was embarrassed. "Julz knew I wouldn't survive here on my own. Heh, I nearly cried when I found out he was comin' with me."

I looked over at him, a bit at a loss. "He got himself into trouble just to follow you here?"

"My parents had plans for 'I'm. He was s'posed to take over my mom's business...he had a life ahead of 'I'm but...all he cared about was me."

Finally, I realized. Jean didn't just want to see his brother again because he missed him, but because he felt guilty. Julien's in jail now; who knows what damage that's doing to his conscience?

I leaned my shoulder against his, because I was too drunk to once again tell him how I was there for him.  No matter how many time I said it, he must have known.  Ever since Jean and I solidified our friendship and promised to look out for eachother, we’ve just had this unspoken understanding for one another.  

“Y'know, you were right, Jean…I do love this view.” I felt my breath being taken away as I stared out at the town below us.  I could see everything from here, just like he said.

I wasn’t sure if the alcohol was making me feel this hot, or if it was me blushing.  I could see Jean shamelessly staring at me from the corner of my eye.  “Yeah, my view’s nice, too.”

I’m not drunk enough to ignore this.

I turned my head, knowing full well that we weren’t that far apart from each other in the first place.  I knew he would turn his head to face me.  It was night time, but the lights from the billboard we were sitting on illuminated our faces in the best way; he could see my eyes flick from his eyes to his lips.  I knew it was a bad idea to lean in and rest my head on his forehead, but I didn’t stop.  I felt his arm slide behind me as he got closer, his other hand rested on my thigh.

I’m not drunk enough to ignore this.

I pressed my lips into his, and before I could get completely lost, I pulled away, resting my head on his.  Jean Kirschstein was dead silent, just giving me that fierce, drunken stare.  Not only did I have to pull away to make sure this was what he wanted, but because the butterflies in my stomach would’ve had me throwing up if I didn’t compose myself.  He answered my question, though, leaning in and kissing me again.

I didn’t have a care in the world as of now.  I didn’t care that I was going to a shit school in a shit town, I didn’t care about Kenny Ackerman or this gross costume he’s got me in right now.  Tonight was the first time in a long time that I feel - dare I say it, happy.  I wanted Jean to feel everything I feel for him in these kisses.  I felt his hand on the side of my face, running his fingers through my hair, his other hand at my neck, gently holding me close to him.  He tasted sweet, probably from the candy he might’ve eaten, and also like the vodka we just drank.  I smelled it on his breath each time we stopped for air.

That’s right.  The vodka.  I started to doubt that he would even remember this in the morning, or if it was even worth reminding him.  He leaned in to kiss me again, but as much as it pained me, I turned away.  

“Um…” I began.  “We should...get down from here.”

“Oh. Yeah.” he nodded, his eyes partially closed.  I made sure to head down the ladder first, so I could help Jean down if he needed it.  When he finally made it down, I turned away and started walking back to the school, hoping that maybe we could back in.  I tried to fill my head with any and everything else than what just happened.  I couldn't let myself be caught up in this, right? Especially if he most likely won't remember.  God, this was why I hated crushes.  I hated them with all my being.  I end up overthinking and overshooting my chances, and end up ruining my almost-relationship.  I didn't want to ruin my friendship with Jean.  We already made out just now, but it shouldn't count if we're not sober.

"God..." I sighed, mentally preparing myself to go back to how we were before, go back to hiding my feelings.  I'd already crossed the line, I couldn't let anything cause me to cross it even further, not anything at all. Get it in your head, Marco, don't let anything--

“Hey, Marco,” I turned, only to have him spin me around, grab my face and pull me in for another kiss.  I wrapped my arms around him and desperately grasped fistfuls of his costume in my palms.  Not an inch of me resisted.  God damn it.  Sure, I was convinced that he didn’t mean to do this, but I couldn’t help my feelings.  No matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I wanted this, I wanted him, and he was kissing me right now like he wanted the same.  

We parted for a second, only for me to open my eyes and see him so close to me, leaning in again to pull me deeper into his web.  His hands were gripping my collar, holding me close as he pressed his lips against mine, parting my lips with his tongue and oh god, I felt fire all throughout my body this chilly autumn night.  I could feel the contours of his face in my hands, I could hear our soft drunken moans between the light smacks of our lips, I could see his face in the dim monlight each time we parted, just before he pulled me in again, and most of all, I could taste the candy and vodka he had all night and I couldn't get enough of Jean just  _invading_ my senses.

We finally parted, our faces still rested against one another, my hands still cupping his face.  This quiet, this stillness, I figured I would find it awkward, and maybe it was because we were extremely drunk, but it was just nice to stand there with him, holding each other the way we were, and blame it on the alcohol.

**_BEEP BEEP_ **

We were suddenly shaken out of our comfortable silence, jerking our heads toward the street.  It was a yellow cab.  The passenger seat opened, and Kenny Ackerman stepped out of the car.  My stomach flipped, because he looked furious.

“Well, well, well, lookit this.” he said, his voice still and calm.  He held his hand to the driver, signaling to stay where he was and keep the meter running.  “This why neither of you bozos could answer your phones?”

“K..Kenny…” Jean muttered, stumbling toward him.  Kenny’s eyebrows arched at the sight, knowing exactly what was happening here.

“You two ran off without me...and got drunk..?”

“Is not what it is...Kenny, listen…” I tried to explain, but my slurring seemed to piss him off even further.

“Fucking christ.” he scoffed, holding his hand to his head.

“Do-Don’t fuckin’ touch ‘im, Kenny…” Jean hiccuped, pointing his finger at him.  Kenny and I both had our eyes on Jean, wondering what he was doing.  “He tol’ me ev’rythin’...you...you _blackmailed_...Marco..? Think I...’d actually _choose_ b’tween Julz...and him..? Th’ _fuck_ is wrong with you!?”

I was pretty drunk, but sober enough to realize that if Jean intended to take on Kenny Ackerman in a fight right now, the ending would not be pretty.  What was I thinking in telling him anything, knowing he would try to confront Kenny about it later? I’m an idiot, sober _and_ drunk.  I twitched a little once I saw the smile pulling at Kenny’s lips.  It was so brief, so tiny, so subtle, but I caught it.  His expression returned to normal.

“Jean, get in the car.” he gestured toward the cab.

“I ain’ goin’ nowhere wit’ you! Fuckin’ bastard!” Jean shoved him again.  “You dunno jack shit about Julz, do ya!? You been lyin’ to me!”

Kenny shook his head.  “No, Jean. Look, you’re right, I shouldn’t have done what I did to Marco. Please, get in the car.”

“Not ‘til you say sorry.” Jean shook his head.  I glanced at Kenny, who--for a split second--scowled at the request.

“Hey, I know you rich kids are payin’ and all, but, can we get a move on?” the cab driver honked.

Kenny set his dark eyes on me.  “Marco.”

“Kenny, you don’ have to…” I began, but he held his hand up, more reasonable - and sober - than the two of us.

“Sorry, alright? I was off my meds. After I escaped the party I started to have an anxiety attack and I took a well-needed dose. I’m thinking much more clearly now.” he nodded.  I just stood there, with he and Jean watching me, waiting to accept.  I wanted to, I just… “Now will you two get in the cab before someone spots you?”

I took Jean by the arm and lead him into the car.  The doors shut and the cab pulled into the street to take us back to the Garisson.  

* * *

Kenny was in the middle of Jean and I, his arm around us, dragging us back into the dorms as quietly as he could. With Jean's incessant rambling and my clumsiness, I could tell he was getting irritated. In the back of my mind, I was wondering why Kenny wasn't angrier than he was about everything...about me telling Jean, about leaving him behind at the party, everything. But I had to concentrate on not face planting.

"Get some sleep, you drunken idiots." Kenny shoved us onto my bed.  Jean, who landed on his face, just groaned, lazily worming his way onto a pillow. "You're gonna need it."

I looked up at Kenny, trying to analyze the seriousness in his tone, trying to analyze what that smirk back there meant. Before I could think anything, he simply turned and walked out, nearly slamming the door behind him.

That apology was bullshit. Kenny Ackerman is going to have my ass for this somehow, I just know it.

"Marco...Marco..." Jean whined, his voice smothered into the pillow. I sighed, looking over at the dork who won't even bother to move his head to speak. More drunken moans rippled out of him, along with lazy reaches for me. I crawled from the edge of the bed to the pillows, trying not to laugh at how blind he was from how dark it is in here and his extremely heavy eyelids. He was getting facepaint all over my pillows and sheets, but I couldn't bring myself to be upset about it.

"What, Jean? D'you need to throw up?" I asked.

"Mmf..." He grumbled, shaking his head. "Where're ya..? "

"I'm right here." I scooted closer.

He shifted on his side, opening his eyes a little more. Once he saw me at his side like I said I was, his restlessness simmered down. He held his hand to my face.

"W...What is it..?" I asked nervously.

"Nothin'." He simply answered. I glanced left, then right, wondering what all that fuss was about. "Jus' wanna look at'cha. Wanna touch you."

I can only hope he wouldn't feel the heat from my blush. What the hell, Jean? I tried to brush it off.  "Fine, weirdo."

"Don't...keep shit like that from me, alright?" He said suddenly.

I was a little confused at first, but then I smiled. "'Kay."

"'M serious. If someone's messin' wit' ya like that...tell me...tell me anything..."

"'Kay..." I nodded, averting his gaze. My chest was tightening again. I wondered if Jean meant all of this or if it was the liquor talking. These words meant a lot to me.

"You know I wouldn't..." He began again, gently stroking his thumb over my cheek. "Choose b'tween you an' Julz, yeah? You know how much you mean t' me...yeah, Marco..?"

Before I knew it, a tear darted from my eye and down the side of my face. This was probably the first time anyone has ever said anything like this to me. Not even my parents express this much care and affection toward me. My feelings for Jean grew tenfold in the span of just one night, and damn it, i still can't bother to be convinced that he really feels the same way.  I didn't want to be hurt again.

"Y-Yeah..." I nodded, hoping my voice wouldn't crack, wouldn't shake enough for him to notice just how deeply he affected me.

"Told ya...you n' me, we're solid."

In all my sixteen years of life, it took me moving into the worst boarding school in the country and everything I've been through being here to realize that I'm not a mistake, that I'm loved and needed by someone. I know my parents care about me, but the way Jean cares about me is much harder to forget.  Maybe if he knew, then I could know for sure just how he feels, just how much he really cares.  

I propped myself on my elbows, ready to confess. "Jean, I--"

I stopped, cut off by his light snoring. I sighed, thinking that maybe it was better I didn't tell him anything, atleast not yet. I leaned over and kissed his lips one last time before laying back on my pillow and drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOHH THE CHEESE. I miss writing this cheesy shit. Sadly, this is the last bit of fluff these two are gonna have in a WHILE. :) I hope you enjoyed it!


	10. The Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The set up of a lifetime.

Jean

_CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!_

"Up and at 'em, boys."

My head was fucking pounding. My ears were ringing from that obnoxious clapping. My eyes--which I was sure was forever sealed with crust--managed to peel open, and I saw Kenny Ackerman standing over me. I vaguely remember our confrontation last night, but judging from how he's glaring down at me, what went down between us was nothing good.

"Fuck..." I groaned, slowly sitting up and tearing the crust from my eyes.

"You look like hell." Kenny snorted, placing his hands on his hips. I glanced down, seeing that I was still in my costume, and I saw all the facepaint residue all over me, the bed, and Marco next to me. He was still in that stupid pink rabbit onesie, the facepaint and stench if liquor all over him...particularly his face...

"What time is it..?"

"Three-thirty." He answered.

"Three-thirty?!" Marco shrieked.

"Oh, glad you're awake, Princess." Kenny offered him a smile.

"I...I had class like, hours ago!" Marco started to panic. Huh, so did I. I sighed, not even having the energy to be upset about it.

"Yeah, figured that..." Kenny hummed. "But y'know, you two were so trashed last night, there was no way you're getting up for class. Don't worry."

"How can we not worry? You know how crazy the admins are about attendance." I said.

"I just wanted you boys to get all the rest you can get. I gotta plan." He said. For a second, I wanted to smile and feel relieved, because it was just like Kenny to have a back up plan to get me out of trouble, but something was holding me back from that gladness. He flashed a smile and headed to the door. "Get cleaned up and meet me by the old school bus."

"I don't think it's smart to get involved in another crazy scheme, Kenny..." Marco shook his head.

"You wanna make it up to me or not?" He asked. Marco fell silent. We did owe him. He continued out the door. "Leave the thinking to me, Freckles."

Once the door shut, my head fell back and I exhaled. Things were starting to happen a little too fast, and it worried me a little, but Kenny apologized for what he did last night, right? It didn't mean I trusted him, but I owe him this for helping Marco and I.

I looked over at Marco, who trudged around his room, picking out clothes to wear. I ran a hand through my--probably dirty--hair, wondering if he remembers what happened last night. He kissed me, and I kissed him...multiple times. He glanced at me, offering a small awkward smile. I had no idea how to take that. He was always smiling at me whenever I was too quiet. Hell, even if he wanted to bring it up, what kind of answer would I have for him?

* * *

We made our way to the old school bus we practiced the slingshot on a while ago. This was Burnout territory, but Kenny didn't seem the least bit concerned.  Oddly enough, there were a great deal of Bullies in this territory.  I was on guard, and they clearly saw us, but they didn’t seem too interested in coming after us.  Kenny stood at the fountain, scrolling through his phone as he waited.  I spotted the petite, stoic Annie Leonhardt smoking a cigarette by the abandoned bus, as if she was waiting, too.  She was probably scouting the area, wondering what these outsiders were doing in her territory...but why wasn’t she doing anything?  She exhaled smoke, locking eyes with me; it sent a slight shiver down my spine.  Kenny finally noticed Marco and I coming toward him, and smiled.

"There they are, my team!"

"Thanks for last night." Marco started. "We must've been a handful..."

"You've never come home from a business meeting with my dad. Don't sweat it." Kenny scoffed. A smile tugged at my lips as he clapped us both on the back. "Alright, check this shit out,"

Kenny pulled us closer together, then glanced a couple times outside our huddle. He pulled a strange-looking key out of his pocket.

"What's this?" Marco asked.

"Eren Jaeger carries this key everywhere. It's the key to the Nerds' observatory across the way there. The crazy bastard has no clue this is also the key to this basement..." Kenny pointed to the side of the building. At first glance, it seemed to be just a bunch of bushes on the side of the building, but I squinted a little, and realized that there's a small stairway with a door at the bottom of it.

"That basement holds the answer to all our problems. The admins are fully aware of how capable students are of sneaking into their offices after hours to get their hands on any school documents they need altered or destroyed..." Kenny began again. "So they moved all sensitive information down to a shared hard drive located in that basement. Once any information is sent to that drive, the only way to access it is from the computer in the basement."

"Do they really think no one knows about this place?" Marco asked.

"'Course people know, they just don't know what's special about it, and even if they did, they don't have the equipment or the balls to get in here." Kenny answered.

I blinked. "And we do?"

"Damn straight! The lock pick extraordinaire, the freckled marksman, and the brains. We've got this." Kenny chuckled. "We'll alter today's rosters to say that you guys were in class today, and I gotta get rid of a disciplinary slip that was turned in this morning."

The three of us waited until the school bell rang, watching carefully as students and TAs wandered around campus. Kenny, understandably, wanted to wait until there were no other students outside to witness us going into the basement. He started walking, and the two of us followed. He looked over at me and cleared the way for me to open the locked door.

The way Kenny made this place sound made me a little nervous.  Honestly, if it was this big a deal, really didn’t care about one absence, but hell, I was already here.  I shook it off and squeezed my bobby pin before sticking it in the lock.

"Jean-y can unlock anything, I swear." I could feel Kenny grinning behind me. "Julz never thought he could handle 'imself hangin' with us, but I couldn't ignore this lock picking shit."

The door popped open and I heard Marco gasp lightly. I put the pin back in my pocket with a smirk. "Just somethin' I picked up."

The three of us headed inside and shut the door behind us. The inside of this basement looked exactly like how it sounded. It was dark, dirty, and stuffy, cluttered with supplies from previous years. We seemed to be encased in concrete and metal, as there were no wallpapers or wall paint, no flooring, nothing. Just the fluorescent flickering ceiling lights dimly lighting the way. This was the real deal.

"You know where this hard drive is? It looks like there's way more rooms, it could be anywhere." Marco observed.

"Yeah. We'll split up and look for it." I simply said, walking toward on door.

"No!" Kenny grabbed me by the collar and yanked me back. Once he realized how much he startled Marco and I, he chuckled a little and softly patted my back. "Erm, no...it's better we stick together. I haven't exactly studied this place through and though, y'know? Not sure what could happen..."

He was facing me, and Marco was on the other side of him, narrowing those brown eyes with mistrust. I slowly nodded.

"Okay...lead the way."

"This way," he started walking. My eyebrows furrowed with confusion, but I followed nonetheless.  We were stopped by a locked double door.  There wasn’t a keyhole for me to pick, so there was no getting in...although, there was a small keypad on the side.  Kenny scratched his head, and tentatively punched some numbers in.  After a long beep, the door opened.

“I thought you said you hadn’t been here before.” Marco hesitantly walked through the open doors and into a short, dim corridor.

“I said that?” Kenny tilted his head, giving Marco a side-eye.

“It’s the reason you didn’t want us to split up, right?” Marco said, walking a little closer to me.  

“You gettin’ suspicious of me, Bodt?” Kenny snorted.  Marco just shrugged and looked away.

“Forget I said anything.”

“Yeah, I will. ‘Cause everything changes today…” Kenny rubbed his hands together.  I rolled my eyes, just wanting to get this over with.

We opened a pair of double doors to a new room.  There was another locked door and instead of a keypad, there’s a switch.  The switch is luckily just a button, but it sits against the wall behind a metal fence.  The door on the fence is our problem.

“It’s a fingerprint scanner. This is the furthest I’ve gotten down here.” Kenny huffed.  “Unless you wanna force a staff member into helping us, got any ideas, boys?”

Silence.  I had to wonder if either of us were even thinking of solutions since we hardly wanted to do this.  Marco and I exchanged a look, and I immediately knew he was feeling nervous about this, too.  We couldn’t back out of it, though, especially since Kenny finally thought of a way in.

“Marco…” he pointed at him, staring into space from being deep in thought.  “The little window in the door is broken. You think you can aim the slingshot at the switch button?”

“I can try…” Marco stepped back as I handed Snapper to him.

Marco switched his position a total of five times before getting his placement just right.  He placed a rubber ball in the slingshot and pulled back.  Once he let go and snapped the elastic, the ball flew right through the tiny window, and slammed into the button so hard, it broke.  The door buzzed and opened.

“Jesus, the shit you gotta go through to get in here…” I scoffed, continuing on through the next corridor.

“No worries, it’s right through here.” Kenny said, right ahead of us.  Once we got through the doors, all I saw was a giant pit surrounded by rusty railings and a fence.  I peered into the giant hole, seeing that this used to be where some of the main building’s sewage wandered through.  It suddenly occurred to me that there was no master hard drive.  This was the last room, and it was just a dump...

Suddenly, I felt a strong shove in my back, and I fell straight into the hole, tumbling just once before landing on my face.

"Agh..!" I wheezed, feeling reminded of just how hung over I really was. Marco immediately came to my aid.

"Jean!" He stepped off the ledge. The drop into the hole was probably about five feet, and given that he wasn't completely recovered either, there was no way he stuck his landing. A part of me wished Marco hadn't come down here...and when I heard snickering, I knew why.

"You two are fucking pathetic." Kenny snickered. "So cute, so disgusting."

"You pushed him...why would you do that..?" Marco helped me to my feet. Kenny's snickering turned into giggling, which turned into laughing, which turned into full blown cackling. I started to feel hot with anger, because there was just something about being in this disgusting hole, watching Kenny Ackerman laugh his ass off after pushing me...

"Man, I swear I've taken shits with more brains than the two of you combined!" Kenny cackled. My adrenaline was climbing once I saw shadows moving along the walls. We weren't alone here and Kenny knew all along.  I knew the entire school wouldn’t be here, that would raise suspicion on the outside.  I spotted some faction figureheads were on the sidelines, watching tentatively.  Christa was with Marlowe, Ymir with Sasha, and Reiner with Bertholdt.  It wasn't too shocking not to see Armin here, since he _did_ steal that basement key from Eren. The rest of the spectators were Thomas’ boys...but where was Thomas?

"You both made this too easy. I mean, from the very beginning, fucking you up has been pretty easy, but today in particular was fucking cake!" He went on. We could only watch as the entire Bully faction crept up beside Kenny, crowding the railing along the hole.

"You set us up..." I growled, wary of the angry bullies now surrounding us.

"Yeah, and y'know somethin'? Julien was way more fun. More of a challenge." Kenny nodded. I started to see red. Kenny continued, staring me dead in the face. "Honestly, Jean, I gotta side with your parents on this. Julien is just way better than you at pretty much everything. Even being betrayed!"

"You son of a bitch!" I ripped away from Marco, dashing toward the ladder to rip him apart, but Thomas' boys stepped in front of him, pulling the ladder up and out of my reach.

"Why, Kenny? What'd they ever do to you?" Marco asked as I tried to cool down.

"You're both fucking soft! The Kirschstein's are a fucking _disease_!" Kenny growled. "Julz was your backbone and I thought by takin' him away, you'd grow a spine, Jean. But you just found a replacement in Freckled Jesus over here! Pathetic!"

"You’re fucking delusional, Ackerman!" I tried to deny his words.

"And you're _weak_ , Jean, weaker than shit-eating brother! And I know you hate me, Marco. I heard what you said about me!" He spat.  Marco and I exchanged a look, knowing he was talking about last night at Hitch’s party.  I thought about exposing the fact that it was really Kenny who did that to Christa’s dog--especially now that she was here--but that would mean revealing that we were in on it, too.  Instead, I focused on Kenny’s betrayal.

" _That's_ what this is about? You screwed us over for _that_?!”

“I knew it...that was a bullshit apology, and I should’ve called you out on it!” Marco shouted.

“You’re one to talk about being sincere, you freckled little bitch! No way in hell I’m trusting you two, not when I know you wanna run this school!”

"No one fucking cares about this place!" I groaned.

"That's where you're wrong, kid. That's what pissed me off about you. You're so into each other, so blissfully ignorant of what’s going on around you." Kenny jabbed his finger at me.

"You're throwing us under the bus for this? D'you know how temporary high school is? What kinda life d'you think you're gonna lead when you graduate?" Marco tried to reason with him.

"Don't throw that holier than thou bullshit at me, Bodt. Life is all about adaptation, and even when I graduate, go to college, and run my enterprise, I can go about it the same way I did here." Kenny ran his hand through his brown hair. "And everyone who ever told you otherwise was a LOSER!"

"You're a piece of shit, Kenny!" I barked.

"Yeah?! And y'know what you are?! Expelled." He said. He looked behind him and motioned his hand for someone to come over. "Over here, Thomas! Teach Kirschstein some respect after he talked all that shit about you."

I stepped back a little, watching Kenny step aside and let an angry Thomas Wagner through and into the hole. He dropped in, like a freaking gorilla, landing perfectly on his feet and right in my face. Before I could even react, he gave me a hard punch to the chest, knocking the wind right out of me. I flew back, tumbling over backward, finally slamming onto my face again.

"Jean!" I heard Marco's footsteps rush toward me. I couldn't get up in time to warn Marco not to come over here. He pulled me to my feet. "How're we gonna get out of this one..?"

That's a good question. Every altercation we've ever had with Thomas has been interrupted by something...but we're deep in the basement, in the hole. No one here will save us now, not unless we beat him.

"You...I have to get rid of you first!" Thomas glared at Marco. He flinched, stepping back, unable to think up a plan to get out of his range.

Then I realized. Marco has the slingshot. I can't let Thomas get to it, besides our own strength, it's our only hope of beating him.

"What the hell d'you think you'll gain doin' what he says, huh? Look what he did to us!" I shoved him. Distracted with me, Marco had the chance to get some distance.

"I hate you and all, Kirschstein, but that new kid has been outta line since he got here! He goes first!" Thomas continued after Marco.

Well shit. Thinking Thomas was after the slingshot was giving him way too much credit, apparently. Back to square one: get Thomas away from Marco.

"He didn't do anything!" I yanked the back of his collar.

Thomas spun around and lifted me up by the collar. "He disrespected me. He tried to beat Dazz with a baseball bat. He needs to go down!"

"Kill 'em, Thomas!" His underlings shouted from the railings up top.

"Wait your turn!" Thomas gave me a hard blow to the stomach. Marco gasped, just as I was dropped to the ground, my face once again slammed onto this gross damp floor.

"Jean..!" I heard Marco's voice. Shit, he needed me, but I'm useless. He really got me, I couldn't move right away.

"Take the slingshot." Kenny called. No. Marco, whatever you do, please don't let him...

I heard Marco's shouts and grunts from his struggle with Thomas. I heard thumps and blows from the beating Marco was taking. I couldn't take it.

"Let..go..!" Thomas grunted, more thumps ensued.

"Stop it..! Take your hands off of of it..!" Marco panted.

"Hey, toss it this way when you get it. I always liked that thing." Kenny chuckled. No. There's no way Kenny does this to us and gets my slingshot. I slowly pick myself off the floor, clutching at my stomach still.

"Should I help, Thomas? Kirschstein's getting up!" Franz offered. Thomas, still wrestling Marco for the slingshot, didn't answer. Thomas had one hand clutching the slingshot, yanking it in every which way in order for Marco to let go. No matter how many times Marco was hit in the face with Thomas' other hand, Marco's grip was tight.

I headed over and jumped on his back--and I mean literally jump, this guy has atleast a foot over Marco and I--grabbing him in a headlock, causing the other kids to grow louder. I got him away from Marco long enough for him to collect himself.  Thomas flailed around, trying to shake me off of him, but my headlocks were tight.

“Marco..!” I called.  Marco, looking lost for a bit, recomposed himself and dug through his pocket for something to shoot at Thomas.  Once I saw him jerk his head around in a panic, I knew we were fucked.

“Shit..!” he glanced at me.  I couldn’t hold onto Thomas much longer.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Freckles? No ammo?” Kenny shouted from the sidelines.

Thomas let out a loud roar and dashed backwards, aiming to slam me into the walls.  Thinking quickly, I let go and dash out of the way.  He slams himself into the wall, only growing angrier.  He breathes heavily, glaring at me.

“I’ve got his attention now, Marco. Try to stay outta the way until I tire him out and beat ‘im.” I told him.

“I’m not letting you do this alone, Jean.” he said firmly.

“I won’t let ‘im hurt you...and I won’t let _you_ lose your temper and kill him!” I glared at him.  Yes, I was worried about Marco being hurt, but more than that, I was honestly worried about Thomas triggering his mean streak and biting off more than any of us can chew.  I know that’s exactly what Kenny wants, anyway.

Thomas charges full speed directly at us.  I shove Marco out of the way, sacrificing the time I have to move out of the way myself.  Thomas tackles me hard onto this murky floor.  I hit the back of my head and find myself panicking internally with slightly blurry vision and the feeling of Thomas Wagner on top of me.

I feel the first blow to my face, and I taste blood in my mouth.  I hear the other kids grow louder, so loud it was beginning to seem like it was fading out.  Just when I thought he would knock me out, something stops him.  I slowly turn my head back up, seeing him clutching his head.  He was then pried off of my body.  The grunting and struggling fell out of my line of sight.  My head was pounding, but I forced myself up and tried to get myself back into the fight.

“I’m jumping in, Thomas!” Franz hopped over the railing.  Shit.  Thomas wasn’t exactly losing this fight, but he couldn’t be seen having trouble with the other faction leaders watching.  Marco was going toe to toe with the larger boy, doing a surprisingly good job of dodging his attacks.  He wasn’t hitting back...atleast not yet.

“Eyes on me, shitface.” Franz suddenly appeared in front of me, giving me a right hook to the face.  A collective “ooh” rippled through the spectators as I stumbled back.  God damn.  The only thing I had to worry about with Thomas is to make sure I wasn’t hit by his massive ass...fighting against Franz Kefka was annoying because he’s just as fast as I am.

“Tag team!” one of the kids shouted.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

I was half-assing this fight with Franz, and it was pissing him off. I was too busy watching Marco go at it with Thomas.

"Quit jerkin' me around, you sorry bastard!" Thomas threw another punch at him. Marco didn't move out of the way quickly enough, and the jab nicked him in the shoulder. He jolted back a bit, buying Thomas enough time to jab him in the stomach, thrusting him back and onto the floor. From the corner of my eye, Franz was about to do the same to me.  

I dodged his punch by the skin of my nose, feeling the gust of wind from the force behind it.  When I thought he was going to throw another punch, it turns out he was faking it; by the time I realized I’d been tricked, I was already dodging in the opposite direction.  He hooked me right in the jaw, the same side of my face Thomas pounded me in not too long ago.  There was that taste of blood again.  Alright, now was the time I had to engage if I wanted this to be over.  I’d beaten Franz before, and Marco needs my help...or did he?

“Holy shit, lookit the new kid!”

Marco had Thomas in a chokehold, slamming his other fist into the blonde’s head.  Thomas flailed around, trying to rid himself of Marco’s grip, and it seemed to be throwing Marco off.  Thomas was headed full speed into a wall, hoping to slam Marco the way he attempted to slam me.  Marco let go, and the two of them lost their balance and tumbled onto the ground.

Franz snapped me out of my distraction by tackling me.  No matter what, I couldn’t let him land on top of me, so I shot my hand out at his face to poke at his eyes, nose, or mouth.  My other hand grasped at his throat and squeezed.  He coughed right in my face as he snatched himself away from me and my intruding fingers in his eyes.  He fell to the ground face first, and I took that chance to sit my ass right on his head and reach down into his pants to grab his underwear.

“Agh!” I heard him grunt.  I yanked on the back of his underwear as hard as I possibly could, enticing his feet to swing violently from the discomfort.

“Give it up, Franz..!” I slammed my feet on his hands to fully immobilize him.

“Eat a dick, Kirschstein..!” he grunted, though I could hear the desperation and fear in his voice.  I pulled a little further and a little harder, and a shrill scream came from his mouth.

“Call it quits and I won’t pop these tiny balls of yours.” I tugged harder, feeling the fabric starting to tear.  I glanced down, seeing his face directly under my bottom.  Tears threatened to fall from his eyes.  “I feel a fart comin’ on…”

“Ch-Chill out, man! Don’t fart, your ass is right by my mouth, okay!?”

“I dunno, I haven’t eaten all day and it’s makin’ me gassy…” I bounced on his head.  “Give up!”

I looked over at Marco and Thomas, who seemed to be growing tired from their fight.  Marco’s nose was bleeding again, and Thomas had a busted lip and a swelling eye.  They were at an equal distance from eachother, ignoring boos from the crowd.

“I’ll kill ya, new kid…” Thomas panted.

“Shut the fuck up, Thomas…” Marco leaned his palms on his knees.  Thomas looked a little surprised to hear that from him.  “So when you’re done beating me up, what d’you think’s gonna happen? Do you ever think about what comes after your actions? Ever?”

“Don’t try to lecture me, fuckface!” Thomas tried charging at Marco, only for Marco to move out of the way and let Thomas fall to the ground.  The onlooking students were beginning to get bored, still booing the fact that there wasn’t much fighting going on.  Kenny’s face darkened with disdain.  Marco walked over to Thomas.

“You’re in your last year of school, and I’d be pissed off, too, realizing I wasted my entire childhood in this shithole...but don’t you think it’s even shittier to throw it all away like this? They might hold you back.”

Thomas groaned, rolling over on his back.  “Is this what you do after you win a fight? Just knock me out, already, fuckin’ wank.”

Marco held his hand out.  “Look, if it makes you feel any better, I never meant to insult any of you guys, and if Jean wanted to talk shit about any of you, he’d do it to your face. Now are you gonna take my hand, or knock me out?”

“Kick his ass, Thomas!”

“Grab his hand and slam him on the ground!”

“What the fuck is this?”

Thomas took Marco’s hand.  My jaw nearly dropped after seeing Marco pull Thomas to his feet.  I let go of Franz’s underwear and got off of his head.  He rolled over, groaning from the pain.  I sighed, extending my hand as well.  

“Aw, what the hell!? These two were s’posed to kill eachother!” Reiner shouted.

“Waste of time.” Ymir scoffed.  “No one got knocked out, but I say Freckles and Haircut won that fight…”

Thomas’s boys gathered around the pit, reaching down to pull all of us out.  I felt my blood starting to boil and my adrenaline rush as I was pulled out of the hole.  The only thing on my mind at this moment was pummeling Kenny Ackerman into the ground...however, things were about to change.  

Loud screeching echoed through the basement, startling every kid in here.  It sounded like the fire alarm had been pulled.  Kids started to scatter, growing louder by the minute.  I knew I should have been trying to find a way to escape, but my eyes were glued to Kenny.

“Jean!” I heard Marco call.  I didn’t even bother to look at him.

The fire alarm was blaring, and Kenny Ackerman was livid. TAs and administrators were now flooding the basement.

"You useless FUCKS!" Kenny snarled, looking for a way out. I was not about to let him get away with this.

"Get back here, Ackerman!" I started to chase after him.

"Eat my ass, Jean! You and that worthless sack of waste, Bodt!"

I was furious, I wasn't satisfied until I heard that arrogant laughter cease by my fist...but while I was so focused on getting Kenny back, I didn't realize I should have been focusing on escaping with Marco, instead.

"Get offa me! Get off--!"

I stopped right in my tracks, turning and seeing Marco being manhandled by a couple TAs and Principal Smith himself.

"The more you resist, the more trouble you’ll be in, you little shit!” Auruo shook him, trying to pacify him.  They were only forcing him to respond more and more aggressively.  My stomach flipped, because these idiots were going about this completely the wrong way.

“Hey, quit it! You’re just pissing ‘im off more!” I called, going after them.

“Get back here, Kirschstein!” I felt hands grab me from behind.  I glanced back, seeing TAs Erd and Gunther holding me down now.  I started to panic once I felt them handcuffing me.  “You’re in serious trouble!”

“Okay, fine, but just listen to me! Marco--” I tried to tell them, but they jerked me around, hoping to silence me.  I looked all around, watching as all the other kids spectating dashed out of the exits, not being caught or even stopped by anyone. Vice Principal Ackerman’s ‘elite squad’ was only focused on who they thought caused all the trouble: Thomas, Marco, and me.  Hell, even Franz got away.

“GET OFF ME!” Marco screamed.  He sounded furious, and desperate.  Principal Smith grabbed him and got in his face to further assert his authority.

“Mister Bodt, if you don’t cooperate we’ll have to--”

_THWACK_

My eyes widened at Mr. Smith stumbling back, almost falling to the floor.  Marco accidentally socked our principal right in the face in his rage...and I couldn’t even think of a way out for him.  Mister Smith rubbed his jaw and glared at Marco, who was still resisting apprehension.

“Cuff him and do whatever you need to do to get him in my office subdued.”

Auruo and Petra threw him to the ground, and he landed on his stomach and face with a hard thud.

“Let me go..! Let me go, damn it! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Marco shouted.  Auruo yanked something from his pocket.  “JEAN!”

He was calling out for me, and the TAs handling me were dragging me away.  I tried to struggle, too.  “Marco, stop it, okay!?”

It was too late for him to listen to me now.  Auruo jammed something right into Marco’s side.  I heard a loud buzz, and Marco started screaming at the top of his lungs, shaking on the basement floor.  My heart sank.  I turned to the others.

“What the fuck is this!? You can’t tase him!”

Gunther held his taser to my face.  “Quit being a pain in the ass or you’ll be next.”

I was dragged across the floor and to the exit.  They stood in my way, forcing my head forward so I wouldn’t see what they were doing with Marco.  All I heard was his heavy breathing and strained sobs echo through the basement.  My face grew hot, I felt so helpless as they dragged me out of the basement.

“Jean..! Jean..!” I heard him calling.  I tried wiggling out of their grip once again, but lost my footing and fell.  Erd sighed and grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt.

“Get _up_ , rich boy. You’re wasting time and energy being this difficult.”

All I could really feel was fear.  Not fear for what would happen to me, but what would happen to Marco.  The Garrison is his last strike.  Did Kenny _really_ get away with this? Are they really going to believe this was our fault? As they yanked me along out of the basement, things were quiet...just as quiet as they were when we followed that traitor in here.  The basement doors opened and the light from outside hit me.  Kids were wandering the campus--some of them who were in the basement just a few minutes ago--staring as TAs dragged me into the main building and into Mr. Smith’s office.

* * *

I was used to sitting in Mr. Smith’s office for all my minor offenses, but it was extremely awkward this time.  Principal Smith just sat quietly at his desk while Vice Principal Ackerman stood against the wall beside him, glancing back and forth from me to Mr. Smith’s bruised jaw.  He must have thought that I did that to him, which only made me think of the person who really did…

“Sorry for the delay, sir.” Auruo and Petra came through the door.  I turned, seeing them each holding Marco by one of his arms.  My chest tightened as I watched him, barely even able to walk to his chair.  They plopped him down in the chair beside mine and left the room.  I glared at Auruo Bossard, the piece of shit who tased him, while he just paid me no mind.  I looked over at Marco, and hoped he would respond to me.

“Marco? Hey...Marco, answer me…”

He just sat there, his head hanging low and the rest of his body limp.  I wanted to reach out to him, but they didn’t take the damn handcuffs off.  I saw him taking deep even breaths, but he was still shaken up from his assault earlier.  His bangs hung over his eyes, he was trying to breathe normally from his mouth, not wanting to irritate his bloody nose.

“To save on time, I suppose I’ll just explain to you two what’s going to happen.” Mr. Smith began.

“M-Mr. Smith, listen, Kenny Ackerman, he’s the one who did all of this. He’s the one who should be here. He set us up!” I tried to explain, but Vice Principal Ackerman interjected.

“There’s no need for an explanation from you. This is what’s going to happen and it’s not up for debate, you lowlife.”

“Jean, your older brother Julien used to attend this school with you until he was arrested last year on counts of assault, vandalism, as well as the possession and abuse of narcotics.” Mr. Smith began, making my blood boil.

“Yes, because he was _framed_ by _Kenny Ackerman_!”

“I believed that you would learn from his mistakes.” he held his hand up, ignoring me.  “Entry into a restricted area of the Garrison costs you your second strike. You'll spend the next three weeks in the solitary ward to reflect on your transgressions."

Although solitary sounded god awful, my first instinct was to look over at Marco. He finally had his head up, awaiting his punishment.

“As for you, Mister Bodt; your prior destruction of property and assault was to be absolved at the Garrison, but fighting in the restricted basement will result in expulsion.” Mr. Smith said.  Marco’s face darkened.  “However, I will not press charges against you for your assault on me, and I fully recognize your mental instability. It's a shame your parents will not be back in town until the holidays...”

“Please, Mr. Smith, I didn't mean to…” Marco shook his head, hoping to plead his case.

“Which is why I’m placing you at the Survey Corporation Rehab Facility for the remainder of the semester.” he folded his hands.

“W-Wait, no, you can’t stick him in that hellhole!” I exclaimed, though I instantly regretted making such a huge fuss in front of him.  I’ve never been inside of the facility, but from what I have seen in my years in Stohess, it’s basically an asylum masking as a rehabilitation center.  There was no way Marco could stay there.

"While I completely understand your concern for your accomplice, mister Kirschstein, this is not up for debate. Once mister Bodt's family return to the states they may collect him from the facility and do with him as they wish." Mr. Smith said.

"Please, they just might _leave_ me there! You gotta believe me, it wasn't our fault!" Marco pleaded.

"You should be grateful your little ass isn't going to jail for this." Vice principal chimed in, removing himself from the wall and headed towards the door. "Hey, prepare a car to take this one away."

"R-Right now?!" I shot up. Wary of my sudden movement, Mr. Smith held his hand on his walkie-talkie and held his finger up to me.

"Sit down, Kirschstein."

As vice principal strolled back toward the desk, Petra and Auruo made their way back in the office, grabbing Marco by the shoulders. Marco flinched and let out a huge gasp as the proceeded to drag him out of the office.

"Jean..!" Marco whimpers, and I felt my heart sink. I can't move, I can't do anything to help him. All I can do is watch those scared brown watering eyes stare back at me as he stumbles out of the office.

My face grew hot with oncoming tears.  This was probably the most helpless I'd ever felt in my life, and the fact that these two assholes were just standing there watching made it even worse.  It felt like last year.  I watched my brother being taken away in handcuffs from their exact position.  Now it's happening again.  The only person I care about is being ripped away from me, never to be seen or heard from again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Eat my ass, Jean!" pfffftt lol. I kinda hate myself for this. But you know what, I have a plan!! Please stick around! :)
> 
> Tumblr --> freckled-stallion.tumblr.com


	11. Julien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his first day at the Survey Corps, Marco discovers he and a few others don’t actually belong there.

 

Marco

"Marco Bodt. Age sixteen. Five foot eleven. 145 pounds. Blood type A. Black hair, brown eyes...you Italian? Me too!"

"Uhh..."

This was probably the most uncomfortable experience of my life...and I've had a lot of them.

Two TAs drive me about twenty minutes into Stohess, near the outskirts to this...place. The Survey Corps Rehabilitation Unit...or Survey Corps for short. The place looked like a legitimate prison. It looked like a regular estate, but barbed wire fences surrounded the perimeter. The car was let in by a massive metal gate secured by burly guards.

There were patients outside, chaperoned by what looked like orderlies. I thought these patients would look like expelled students, but there were mostly elderly people aimlessly wandering around the entrance.

Once we stopped at the front of the estate, there was a nurse and an orderly already waiting for me.

"Principal Smith says he'll have the rest of this young man's records to you by tomorrow." Petra handed the nurse a few folders.

"We'll be in touch." The nurse nodded.

With that, they uncuffed me and walked back to their car without another word to me. My eyebrows furrowed with frustration. This was it...I'm no longer a Garrison student, no longer their problem, and no longer with Jean…

“Come along, Marco.” the nurse called softly.  A little surprised to be called by first name and not last, I hesitantly followed her inside the building.  “We’ll need to get you cleaned up and show you to your room.”

The large wooden doors shut behind me, and it felt as if I was back in the boy’s dorm at the Garrison.  Distant shouting, crying, things breaking...and not an ounce of surprise from me.  It seemed that I was used to it by now.  The nurse brought me into a small office and held her hand out to a stool for me to sit on.

“Mr. Woerman will be in shortly.” she said.  I just sat quietly, twiddling my fingers.  I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I didn’t notice her staring.  “It’s funny. You don’t _look_ mental.”

“Huh?” I furrowed my eyebrows at her.

She studied me a little more, then held her hand out for me to take.  “Rico Brzenska. I’m the head nurse here.”

I meekly shook her hand.  She noticed my apprehensiveness and took her hand back.  I glanced around, figuring if it was going to be this awkward, I might as well talk.  “Did um...my parents say anything..?”

“We called and left a message with your housekeeper. Apparently their trip out of state is much more urgent.” she said.

 _‘Much more urgent than anything happening to me? Yeah, don’t remind me.’_ I rolled my eyes.

“You’ll just have to carry out the rest of your school semester here. Your parents will have to sort out what happens to you after that.” she said, organizing some things on the office desk.  Just then, the door opened, and a tall man with brown hair and a brown mustache came in.  He had a very intense look about him, and dark, almost sunken in eyes, like he hardly got any sleep.

“This the boy from the Garrison?” he pointed at me.

“Yes, sir. His name is Marco.” Rico nodded.

“Kitts Woerman.” he nodded at me.  I slowly nodded back.  “Listen, kid, you’re in a completely different league here. You’re our youngest patient, but don’t think you’ll get any special treatment ‘cause of that...or the fact that you’re disgustingly rich. Hell, that might earn ya an even worse experience.”

“The orderlies are on their way, sir.” Rico placed her cellphone in her pocket.  Hold on, did she just say orderlies?

“Good. You look like hell, so they’re gonna get you cleaned up, into your uniform and into your room.” Mr. Woerman waved me away, going to sit at his desk.

Two large men in white scrubs entered the office. They placed their hands on me, yanking me up from my chair. "H-Hey wait! Can't you just show me where the bathrooms are so I can--quit pushing me!"

We only made it just outside the office before the orderlies lost their patience and shoved me hard against the wall. My knees buckled, but as long as they had me in their painful grasp I wasn't about to fall.

"You don't make the rules around here, boy. patients ain't allowed bath time by themselves so get used to the company!" An orderly said sternly. I was still sore from the fight, so I honestly didn't have the energy to protest anymore. I just wanted to leave this place. I just wanted Jean.

"Hey now, you gotta go a little easy on this one. He's from a pretty powerful family I hear." Rico stepped out of the office, patting one on the shoulder. She and Mr. Woerman continued talking about me as they strolled down the hall. The orderlies seemed to make a note of it, and instead of yanking me to my feet, each of them placed a hand under my arms and picked me up.

"Get up."

Much more gentle, I guess. The communal bathrooms were just frightening. It was freezing; from the cold wet tile on the floors and walls, to the metal stalls along the walls. On the opposite side of the bathroom stalls were the shower stalls. The knobs to turn on the water were outside instead of inside the shower, weirdly enough. Narrow, cold, and set with what looked like jet hoses on either side.

"Shower shoes. Soap. Shower time is at most five minutes." The orderly said robotically, shoving a pair of plastic sandals and a bar of soap in my hands. "You seem to know how to do this yourself so we'll stand out here. Hop to."

"Give us those clothes. You won't be needing them anymore." He held his hand out. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. Did he mean..?

"Well?" He widened his eyes at me.

"I'm not gonna take my clothes off in front of you guys..." I stepped back.

"Trust me, kid, it's just protocol. We'd leave ya to shower alone, but too many people die in--I mean, _get hurt_...in the showers. Alright?" One of them told me. That totally didn't make me feel better at all...

Still, what could I do? The degree to how violated I felt went down considerably when I realized that they weren't paying attention in the slightest. A relief, I guess.

I handed my clothes to one, and once he had them in hand, he gestured his head to the shower. I cupped my hands over my groin as soon as I took my hands off my clothes, not only because I was embarrassed, but because it was freezing in here. I heard the creak of the shower handle from outside, and ice cold water burst out of the jets on either side of me. If it weren't for how narrow the stall was, the shock would've knocked me on my ass. And just like that, the water stopped, leaving me soaking wet and shaking.

"Better lather up, boyo. Your rinse is in thirty seconds." The orderly called from outside.

"W-Why is it s-so cold?" I shook, trying not to fumble the soap.

"Oh yeah...forgot to mention the hot water goes pretty quickly around these parts." He hummed.

"Isn't this place funded by the c-city or something? W-We can't bathe in freezing w-water..!" I stammered, hoping that soaping up would warm me up a little.

"Rinse!" He turned the knob, and the jets blasted the cold water against my skin. I could barely move my arms to wash the soap off of me. It was only a few more seconds, but it felt like forever. He couldn't have turned that water off slowly enough, the bastard.

He opened the heavy metal shower door, exposing my wet naked body to the freezing cold air. Before I could move my hands to cover myself, he tossed a towel at me.

"Your clothes are in your room."

I made my way out of the bathroom, trembling back into the slightly warmer hallway. The orderly nudged me along in the direction he wanted me to go, careful I wouldn't get distracted by the other patients eyeing me as I moved along.

"Unit seven. Remember it." He ordered, unlocking the door. Once he opened it, all that awaited me in that room was a bare twin sized bed with my clothes on it.  No furniture, no bathroom, not even a painting or a plant to offer any kind of warmth into the room.  There was a barred window I could look through...that was a plus, I guess.

_SLAM_

The heavy metal door shut behind me, and I heard the orderly walking away. I just sighed, dropping my towel to change clothes.

What did they do with my school uniform? What's going to happen to my dorm room? And all my stuff in it? What did they do with my cellphone? I mean, I did think to ask for it, but in the hour and a half I've been here, there was no way I'd be getting that back any time soon. It's not like I'd call my parents or anything like that...there was only one person I wanted to reach out to.

Hell, even if they turned my service off, I'd just be torturing myself scrolling through sneak pictures of him.

I found myself curled up on my bed, fully dressed in these patient garbs. I was facing the wall, unable to believe this was really happening. When I woke up this morning, I was beside Jean, confident we would overcome anything the Garrison threw at us together...few hours later and I'm in a mental institution until my neglectful parents bother to pick me up--two months from now.

"Fuck me..." I felt my face growing hot with oncoming tears.

"Marco," a voice outside my door called, just before unlocking it. I quickly swiped my face and tried to get rid of any flushes on my face. I couldn't even look to see who it was, there was no way I'm turning around looking like this...not that it mattered, I was caught anyway. "Hey, don't cry."

"I just got from a freezing shower and it's dusty in here, so..." I mumbled, still facing the wall. God damn it, The more I lied, the more I wanted to cry. I won't bother pretending or even turning around. I know it's Rico.

"I won't sugarcoat it, Marco. It's a hellhole." She said. "But...you only have to survive two months here. And hey, if you're good tomorrow, we'll let you outside and show you the common areas. I've got some bed sheets for you."

I sniffled, turning around to see her standing at the foot of my bed. "Are you only being nice to me 'cause my family's rich?"

From the slight shock on her face, I caught her off guard with the question, but she glanced off and played it cool. "The honest answer would be yes, I suppose...however, you do seem like a nice kid. There are a few others like you here."

That piqued my interest. "Like me?"

"A few of the Garrison's fallen made their way into the Survey Corps. Meeting them might make your time here a tad less miserable." She said, making her way back to the door. Once the door closed, I shot up, eager to make this bed. The sheets were so thin it actually forced more tears out of me. I was still shivering and this was my only hope of avoiding hypothermia, so instead of spreading everything on the bed, I just wrapped myself in the mattress dressing, the sheets, and threw the pillowcase over my head.  How could I live like this for the next few months? My few childhood years of poverty with my mother wasn't nearly as bad as this.  Hopefully when I pulled my head out of it the next day, I’d be in my dorm room, next to Jean’s awful sleeping face.

* * *

The next day, instead of being woken up by Jean as I usually was, I was rudely shaken awake by a couple of orderlies. It was still cold, and the light from outside was beaming once they snapped open the curtains.

"Wake up, lazybones. Breakfast time." The orderly boomed.  I was still cold from yesterday's shower, and this chilly autumn air only made me wonder how early it was.

"What time is it..." I grumbled, rolling out of bed.

"6AM. Breakfast. Up and at 'em." He gave me a push toward the door. This is satanic. Sure, I usually wake up an hour and a half from now for school, but that’s a whole ninety minutes of sleep that could’ve been had.  Since I was already on my feet, I didn’t bother complaining anymore.  I was shoved into the bathroom to brush my teeth, then I was lead into the cafeteria, which looked nothing short of a madhouse.  

“Not much different from your school cafeteria, kid. Just get in line, pick a table, and sit down.” the orderly explained.  Realizing that the cafeteria was growing more and more out of control the longer he was distracted with me, he called someone over to help me out.

“Hey! Nanaba! Get over here.”

A tall blonde girl rushed toward me.  She looked to be closer to my age, so that put me a bit at ease.  Then again, I was with a hundred of other children my age and most of them were trying to beat me up most of the time…

“This is Bodt. Keep an eye on ‘im.” the orderlies said as they shuffled off.  As I got a closer look at her, I was beginning to second-guess assuming she was a girl in the first place.  Her blonde hair was cut short, her blue eyes were piercing, and her build was sort of throwing me off.

“Hey. Wanna sit together?” her voice seemed feminine, but surely didn't help.

“Yeah, sure.” a small smile tugged at my lips.

"You must be from the Garrison." She grabbed a couple trays from the stack.

"Yeah. Just got here. I heard they call us 'The Fallen'..." I took a tray she handed to me. She chuckled at the comment and slid along the lunch line. I stole another glance at her, trying to guess how old she must be...she looked like she had a couple years on me; maybe she's been here longer than I'd like to think? "What year were you in when they admitted you?"

"Well, I didn't exactly go there." She said, scooting along the line.

I followed her, more questionable slop being put on my food tray. "You didn't..?"

"See, I was actually a TA..." She gave me a sheepish smile as she slipped out of the line.  My eyes widened, and although I shouldn't, I felt a twinge of resentment creeping into my brain.  Flashbacks of all the abuse TAs would subject me to - especially the tasing - came to mind.  As I followed her back to her table, she noticed the look on my face and turned to me. "Trust me, being an asshole was part of the job description and I never really fit it...could be part of the reason I was sent here."

My eyebrows furrowed from confusion. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but she must have meant to tell me that she wasn't like the others, and I had to take we word for it. She sat at the end of the table and motioned for me to take a seat in front of her. Next to her was a man with dirty-blonde hair and a budding mustache, and he looked to be her age.

"Hey. Another one of the fallen, I see." He have me a nod.

"Marco." I returned the favor.

"Moblit." He offered a smile. "Say, what ward are you in?"

"Huh?" I blinked, picking at the lumpy oatmeal in my bowl.

"You in the rehabilitation ward or the psyche ward?" He inquired.

I paused a bit, not noticing a separation between the two, but I've only been here less than a day. "The psyche ward..."

"No way, me too!" He exclaimed. Nanaba and I both gave him a strange look, to which he calmed down a bit and continued. "I mean, y'know, I'm not alone anymore. You know how scary it felt to be in a ward with a bunch of legitimately deranged people? I'm just a kid with a bit of a neurotic streak, but I ain't crazy!"

I wonder if my disorders would sound this strange if I were to say them to other people. Oh, I'm just a kid with a bit of a blind rage tick, but I'm harmless! I tried to take the attention off of us before it could depress me. "So, that means you're in rehabilitation, Nanaba?"

"Yeah...it's not the best program I've been forced into, but it's better than being on the street." She shrugged. "What're you in here for, anyway?"

I paused, swiveling my plastic spoon in my oatmeal. Moblit turned to Nanaba. "Ah, he just got here. No need to badger him about it today, right?"

More like don't ask me about this, ever.  Not only do I only care to talk about it with only one person, but it's too long of a story.  The two of them flicked their eyes from me to the seat beside me being pulled. Another student. I turned, and my jaw fell open from shock. There was no way I was imagining this right, but his name being called out only confirmed this feeling.

"Yo, Julz!"

No way. It couldn't be. This was in no way possible. I was completely frozen, staring at this boy once he sat beside me. Ocean blue eyes, blonde, almost windswept hair, and an innocent smile, the very same smile I saw on his picture on Jean's blog.

Jean...how would he handle this..?

"This is Marco. He got here yesterday." Moblit introduced me.

"Marco Bodt!" Nanaba added.  The boy chuckled at his friends and looked straight at me, offering me his hand.

"Julien Kirschstein. You can call me Julz."

There was no mistaking it. All of Jean's searching, all of his wasted time on Kenny Ackerman...it only lead up to _me_ finding his beloved brother.  There was no way I could leave this place with my parents; there was no way I could leave without telling Jean about this.  Meeting Julien like this only solidified the thought in my brain that Jean and I - as corny as it sounded - were meant to stick together.  

"You've been here all this time..." My thoughts managed to make themselves known. Everyone, even Julien, was understandably lost, so I tried to pull myself together and make things clearer. "Jean's been lookin' for you and you've been here..!"

"You know Jean..?" He seemed to turn pale.  I hadn’t noticed how blue his eyes were until they were staring right at me, wide and watering.  I nodded, a smile grazing my face.

“He’s my best friend.”

He glanced off, at his couple of onlooking friends, then down at his tray. “Is that right?” He chuckled, trying to brush off how emotional he was getting.

“Who’s Jean?” Nanaba asked.  I furrowed my eyebrows, at both of them, even Moblit for looking lost as well.  These two were his friends, right? How could they not know?

“He’s...my little brother.” Julien answered awkwardly, the smile still glued on his face.  Nanaba and Moblit exchanged a look of confusion, then looked back at the blonde.

“How come you never bothered to tell us this..?”

The question seemed to snap Julien out of his bliss for a second.  The smile disappeared from his face as he stared at each one of us.  I should have been more concerned about why he never mentioned something as important as Jean, but I was so excited about meeting him, I brought something else up, instead.

“Wait ‘til Jean finds out you’re here...that you’ve been here all this time!”

“No!” Julien jerks his head in my direction, almost glaring at me.  His tone startles me a little; even his friends stare.  He shakes his head, calming down.  “I mean...I wanted to find him again when I was ready…”

“When was that? You didn’t even tell us he existed.” Moblit scoffed.  Julien’s been with these two presumably since he was put away last year...he had ample time to talk about Jean...so why didn’t he?

“Just drop it. You know now, alright?” he suddenly stood up.  We all watched as he snatched his lunch tray and walked off.  He dumped his lunch tray and exited the cafeteria with an orderly, not looking back at us for an instant.  He and Jean are definitely brothers with those hot heads.  It wasn't like me to pry, or even feel the slightest bit of curiosity of someone else's business, but I was extremely interested in Julien and what he's hiding. I couldn't help but feel inclined to learn more. For Jean.

"Might wanna eat all that." Moblit snapped me out of my thoughts. I glanced back down at the sad, lumpy bowl of oatmeal, twisting my face into a scowl. "It ain't the best, but your next meal isn't 'til noon."

Fuck. It was six in the morning.  I wasn’t the type of person to eat breakfast anyway, but I’d regret it if I didn’t start.  I scooped some of the gruel into the plastic spoon I was given and just shoved it in my mouth.  I didn’t expect it to taste good, and even after a warning from Moblit, I wanted to gag.  Still, for the sake of having something in my stomach for the next six hours, I forced it down, atleast until breakfast was declared over.  Patients were then dismissed and escorted out of the cafeteria by table.  I looked over at my two new friends, waiting for our table to be dismissed, and tried to lighten the situation.

“I don’t think Julz kept this secret from you guys because he didn’t trust you. Maybe there’s another reason. It’s a strange thing to keep to yourself.”

“It’s true that we keep eachother outta trouble as best we can, but unless it’s got somethin’ to do with me, I don’t need to know anything he doesn’t wanna tell.” Nanaba shrugged.  Moblit glanced over at her, then back at me with a slight shrug, sharing her sentiment.  It was the same mentality kids kept in the Garrison.  Alliances are formed, but in the end, it’s everyone for themselves...does anyone really care?

When it came time for us to move, I followed Nanaba and Moblit out into the hall.  We were in a single file line, a group of orderlies on either side of us.  I tapped Moblit in front of me.

“Where’re we going?”

He turned to answer me, but he was distracted by the increasingly loud screaming coming toward our group.  The screaming was panic, coming from a man stumbling his way down the hall.  He was being chased by three orderlies, one of them holding a syringe in his hand.  The line I was in quickly fell back against the wall, completely out of the way.  The man was completely out of breath and couldn’t focus on where he was going.  He crashed into me, and the two of us fell to the floor.

“Please help me, Jesus..!” he cried.  Jesus? _Me?_ His eyes were teary and desperate, and his arms were riddled with needle marks.  “I’m sorry..! P-Please tell them I didn’t mean it! Please don’t let them!”

I had no idea what he was trying to say to me, but I could tell he was deathly afraid of what they were going to do to him.  The orderlies chasing him came closer to capture him.

“Jeez, Greg, you just can’t keep outta trouble, can you? C’mon, don’t be a pain, you’re scaring the kid.”

“PLEASE DON’T! PLEASE, JESUS TO HELP ME!” the man grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, causing some of the other patients to get a little uneasy.  The orderlies escorting us out of the cafeteria began leading them away from this scene.  Moblit and Nanaba stared at me with wide eyes, eyes that warned me to get up and leave with them.  But even as ridiculous as he was being, I couldn't just ignore this man, though.

“Don’t let them put me away again! My arms hurt, the straps are too tight!” he pleaded.  Did he think I worked here? Or did he genuinely believe I was some freckled Jesus Christ? I noticed the red marks on both of his wrists as he rubbed them, feeling my stomach drop a little.

“Get up, Greg! You need to rest!” the orderlies grabbed him by both of his arms.  He refused to leave me.  He wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my chest, blabbering on about how I had the power to save him from these monsters.  I don’t know what came over me, what possessed me to shield this man from the clutches of those orderlies.

“What d’you think you’re doin’, hero?” one of them scoffed.

“What’re you gonna do to him? He’s afraid of those needles...and are you even allowed to strap us to our beds?” I put my arms over him as he held onto me for dear life.

The burly man folded his arms, glanced at his colleagues, then back at me with a tired expression.  The man was still trembling, but atleast I got him to stop crying.  “Alright. You must be curious. You’ll see just how therapeutic Resting can be.”

“W-What?” my eyes widened as the man started wailing once again.  I was yanked up by my arms by an orderly from behind.

“The stars of heaven adorn your face! You’re the one and only Jesus Christ and you can stop this! Please stop this reign of terror, lord!” the man started sobbing, only to be dragged away.  I was being carried away in the opposite direction, completely unsure of where I was going.  His crying turned into screams, possibly from the needle they jabbed in his arm, then he started to quiet down.  As the two of us were carried to the end of the halls, he had disappeared.

“Please...lemme go..! It’s only my second day..!” I started up.

“Record timing, I suppose, huh?” he scoffed.  I felt something boiling in my gut, and my vision started to blur from the frustration.  My hands started to tremble, and as much as I didn’t want this rage to start up right here and now, it was happening, and I couldn’t even fathom how much worse my situation would get.

However, amongst the patients watching from the sidelines, I spotted Julien standing there, staring at me with what it looks to be like concern.  He then took off running.  I was beyond confused, but it stopped my episode from happening, atleast for that moment. as long as I'm feeling this helpless, I can't fight the oncoming episode that will inevitably make whatever situation I’m in even worse than they are...

"Nothing you can say or do to get outta this. You should've just minded your own business." An orderly lectured me, causing my temper to grow even worse, despite my trying to keep calm.

"C-Can you just lemme go? I need to breathe…” I stammered.  They ignored me, continuing to drag me in whatever direction they wanted.  A heavy door creaked open, and I was greeted by an unwelcoming chill that reverberated through my entire body.  My body tensed up and I started resisting.  I just couldn’t go in there.

“You brought this on yourself.” the orderly grunted, yanking me along.  They finally got me into the tiny chilly room, and when I laid eyes on the dingy mattress, the leather straps, and that rusty metal bedframe, I started to lose it.  

“I don’t belong in here! You can’t do this! Let me go!” I started flailing around.

“You’re getting on that bed to take a rest, kid, one way or another!” they threatened, pulling a large syringe from his scrubs.  When I didn’t respond quick enough, I was thrown onto the bed, held down on all sides.  There were three of them, and they were so much stronger than me, but resorting to sedation was much easier, apparently.  I started to scream at the top of my lungs once I felt the chill of the alcohol-soaked cotton ball rub a spot on my arm.  Tears rolled down the sides of my face when I felt the pinch of the needle piercing my skin.

“You can’t do this to me! You can’t do this to me! You can’t..! You can’t…” I whimpered, suddenly feeling dizzy.  The drugs took an almost immediate effect, and I was beginning to wonder if I would ever wake up going under while feeling this much anxiety.  I could barely move, but I could still feel everything.  They tugged at the leather straps at my wrists and ankles, making sure I couldn’t move from this spread-eagle position.  

The three of them sighed, as if what they’d done to a sixteen-year-old kid was some sort of necessary evil, and exited the room.  The slam of the heavy metal door echoed through the room, sending a pounding feeling to my head.

No matter how much I struggled, my arms and legs were tightly bound.  My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t move nearly as quickly as I wanted.  The more I tried to move, or even look around, it took so much out of me.

My vision started to blur, and although I was terrified, it was too tiring to make even the slightest noise.  My breaths got deeper, my movements even slower, and my eyelids heavier.  I didn’t want to close my eyes, but with each passing moment, it was becoming harder to stay awake.

If there were a place lower than this, it’d surely be hell.

All I could take comfort in were my thoughts and memories of the only boy who believed in me.  The only boy who could help...nowhere near here now, or again.   

* * *

My eyes fluttered open, much more cognizant of my motor skills.  My mouth was dry, my head was pounding, and my stomach was crying for food.  It made me wonder how long I was laying there like that.  I suddenly realized that I wasn’t in the tiny room, and my arms and legs were free.  My eyes darted across this unfamiliar room; it looked like a lounge of some sort.  The television propped near the ceiling provided an almost calm background noise, there were patients calmly playing cards at a table, some looking out of the window and others just talking with one another.  It was a stark difference to the environment I’d seen since being here.

“Hey, you okay?” a voice asked.  I lifted my head and saw Julien Kirschstein sitting near my head.  I shot up into a sitting position, but immediately regretted it.  I still felt dizzy, and felt my stomach churn in the worst way.  I held my stomach and let out a slight heaving sound.

“Whoa, here.” Julien placed a small trash bin in front of me.  

I jerked forward, expelling the contents of my stomach into the trash.  All my hard work in choking down that oatmeal, thrown away.  Literally.  I felt Julien’s hand on my back, and the tears that were at one point from vomiting soon were about cherishing the first bit of real human contact since leaving Jean.  After a couple dry heaves and a slight coughing fit, I pulled my head out of the trash and wiped my mouth.

“How'd I get here…” I mumbled, completely weak.

“I convinced Rico to wake you from your Rest a little early. Imagine having to throw up like that strapped to a bed?” Julien responded with a slight chuckle.  Rest.  Is that what they called it?  There were a good number of things I wanted to say, but at the moment, I just felt like dying.  I leaned back against the couch, hoping to regain some strength while Julien took the opportunity to speak.  “Look...a lotta fucked up shit happens in here...you’ll die trying to be everyone’s savior.”

“Me. The Lord and savior Jesus Christ…” I mumbled, remembering the obviously troubled man who I'm pretty certain I just made lose his religion.  Julien furrowed his eyebrows at me, then shook his head, probably dismissing it as the drugs making me say strange things.

“This isn’t the Garrison. They’ll do damn well anything to make you cooperate and they’re not afraid to.”

I slowly turned my head toward him.  “If I'm s'posed to just mind my own business, why’d you help me?”

He seemed to be at a loss for a moment, but formed a smile. "I dunno...my brother always used to say I was too nice...but I'm only kind within my means! You're just lucky I could get away with helping you."

"Heh. Sounds like something he'd say." I hummed. I wanted to laugh, but it felt too much like I was treating Jean as some distant memory when I only saw him yesterday.  I noticed Julien side-eyeing me, almost suspiciously.  “What’re you lookin’ at me like that for?”

He kept his stare for a bit longer, then finally glanced off and crossed his legs.  “You said you and Jean...were best friends, right?”

“Y-Yeah…” I glanced off, too.  To be honest, I don’t know if I had the right to say such a thing.  I only saw Jean Kirschstein as a friend for such a short time before I started to grow feelings for him.  That was another thing, too, there was no way in hell I was going to tell Julien about my feelings or anything that’s gone on between us! Not here, not now. Hell, as far as I know, Jean doesn’t remember anything, anyway.

“Must be some friendship.” he nodded.  “You were calling him...in your sleep.”

Fuck.  I just sat there, slack-jawed and unable to come up with anything to justify that.  Would it be worse to ask him how I was calling him? Was it a wet dream I don’t remember? Jesus, that’d be embarrassing.  I shook my head and tried to say something, anything to make it seem like I wasn’t guilty of something.  “Uhm, huh....”

Nice one, Bodt.  Julien cracked a smile, and it only made me think my big gay secret was out, but what he said seemed to catch me off guard.  “Y’know, growing up, Jean always hung out with my friends. Even in the Garrison. I knew he was a hard kid to get along with, so even if my friends kinda hated him, which most of them did, I didn’t wanna leave ‘im out.”

I couldn’t help but notice the look on his face when he talked about Jean.  He stared at the floor with a weak smile.  The Kirschstein brothers seemed to talk about eachother the same way, as if the other was some kind of dead distant memory; when in reality they’ve been in such close proximity all this time, and knowing that is killing me.

“I was worried that he’d be all alone when I was taken away…” Julien looked up at me with an earnest smile.  “I’m happy he had a best friend. Someone to look out for ‘im.”

My smile faded.  Why is he making it sound like he can’t? Why is he making _me_ sound like something of the past, too? “W-Well, when he comes, maybe we can--”

“When he comes?” he cut me off.  I blinked, wondering if there was something I was missing.  “What makes you think he’s coming here?”

“He will.” I nodded with certainty.  “He knows where this place is, he’ll come for me. When he finds out you’re here too…”

“Listen, Marco, was it? We only met today, but can you promise me something?” he softly asked.  I didn’t want to agree, because I had a bad feeling.  “Even if by some slim chance in hell that my brother does show up here lookin’ for you, and you do by some chance get to see eachother...please don’t tell ‘im anything about me…”

“Julz, I don’t understand…” I began to say.  I wanted to do anything to talk him out of this.  “You dunno how much he misses you.”

“Not nearly as much as I miss him.” he locked eyes with him.  It was a hasty reply, and for all I know it could’ve been just for the sake of argument, but something about it shut me up.  I felt it to my very core.  I only spent a single day in here and couldn't stand it, who knows how long Julien has been here, missing Jean? He averted his gaze and ran a hand through his curly blonde hair.  “Look, I saved you from rotting in that room for twelve hours, so just promise me that and we’re even.”

He also might have talked me up to head nurse Rico and gotten me in her good graces...as much as I didn’t want to back out of Jean’s personal life, I had to.

“Fine. We’re even.”

“Good. Now let's find you some food before you blow chunks again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I got soooooooo many asks on tumblr asking if I delayed this chapter on purpose lmao. I did not! I unfortunately had to pack up and fly out west for a new semester of school :( But please, keep sending me messages, they distract from how stressful school is (besides writing this) :)  
> In regards to this chapter.....all I gotta say is Julien was never supposed to be this important. .-. Haha well I said it before and I'll say it again, I gotta plan!  
> Please stick around! :)


	12. A Little Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean Kirschstein is free from punishment and makes friends with the Bullies, but becomes enemies with the Preps. He should be afraid, but all he cares about is his solid plan of getting Marco back.

 

Jean

_Two weeks later..._

__

It's been days.

I can still hear his screaming.

I can still hear him call my name, pleading for help.

I honestly don't know what was worse, the guilt I feel over not being able to help him, or how awful it is without him.

The solitary ward of the Garrison was a tiny, nerve-wrecking box of white noise.  The walls were white, the sheets on the twin sized bed were white.  The fluorescent lights were bright, cold, and the slight buzzing made me want to bash my head into the metal bedframe.  It was an extension of the school building near the very back. I haven't seen the outside of Solitary since Marco and I were taken away a couple weeks ago. There's a bed, there's a shower, and TAs come around every now and again with food and water. Not the most ideal living conditions, even by the Garrison's standards, but hell, I only had until the end of this week before I was free...if one could call it freedom.

My first priority would be finding a way to see Marco. Every moment I'm left alone with my thoughts--which is often in this fucking hovel--I hope to whatever listening deity that he isn't miserable...and this might be selfish, wishful thinking, but hopefully he'll have some faith left in me.

Just then, I heard the lock on the door opening. Another TA to deliver food? No, I just had lunch...

"Jean?" It was Mike Zacharius, the art teacher. A visit from him has been the highlight of the past couple weeks in here. Surprisingly, he had someone else I didn't expect; Thomas Wagner quietly trailed him in. Mike stepped closer and offered me a half smile. "How's solitary?"

"Well, I do get the overwhelming desire to eat glass, but it usually passes without incident." I shrugged.

"You've been holed up in here for twelve days and you still manage to be a sarcastic shit, huh?" He dug through his bag. I shrugged, hoping my arrogant half smile would cover up how much I'm dying inside. "I was told to deliver your homework."

"I have homework from _you_?" I tilted my head. I passed Mike's class ages ago, after all.

He didn't respond and just handed me a thick worn down book. My eyes widened a little as a smile spread across my face for the first time. It was my sketchbook.

"Hey, thanks..!"

"I had to spend days in jail with no outlet. I know how it is." He nodded. I wanted to question what Mike could've done to land himself in jail, but I almost forgot Thomas Wagner was with him. So of course, instead of asking, I decided to stare until he felt uncomfortable enough to talk.  

"Oh, I'm sure you're wondering about him." Mike rubbed his nose. "Well, Thomas agreed to stop sculpting phallic objects with the clay if I let him talk to you."

I scowled at Thomas, who I could've sworn looked a little nervous, and just waited for an explanation.  "What, Thomas? Did you come to gloat? To relay to Kenny how miserable I am?"

"No, dude. I came to apologize n' shit..." He rubbed the back of his head.  Honestly, I was pretty surprised.  Thomas Wagner? Apologize? To _me_ , especially? He huffed and finally looked at me.  “That Ackerman guy was a dick.”

“Understatement of the year.” I deadpanned.  Mike watched the two of us smooth things over, almost studying.  “You’re just lucky when he screwed you over, you didn’t end up in here...or somewhere else…”

My statement brought a long pause into the room, because we all knew who I was talking about.  Thomas’ face seemed to droop with guilt, and he inched a little closer to me.  “Yeah, I feel really shitty about what happened...so when you get outta here, just know that we got your back.”

“Protection from the bullies. That’s comforting, I guess.” I fell back on my bed.  Mike put his face in his hands, and that was my cue to stop with the sarcasm.

“Hey, I swore off bullying, okay? Your boyfriend kinda made me realize this ain’t forever. I gotta graduate...get my life together n’ shit.” he looked down at the floor.  I inhaled to deliver a smart ass remark, but I glanced at Mike, who had his arms folded and was giving me a glare that strongly advised against whatever I was about to say.  Maybe I should rethink chastising Thomas and his protection.  Kenny betrayed me, and Marco isn't a student here anymore, so I'd be left to face the cliques' mercy on my own again if I didn't agree to make friends with them.

“That’s uh...that’s good, man. We should definitely help eachother out.” I cleared my throat with a lowered tone. He lifted the back of his shirt and pulled out what I thought was lost forever. He placed Snapper in my hand, looking just the way I had it.

"My slingshot..!" I gasped, completely relieved.

"Yeah, Franz managed to swipe it during all the commotion." Thomas said.

"Tell Franz I'm sorry about that atomic wedgie...and for threatening to fart in his mouth..." I said, a little embarrassed once I saw the disgusted look on Mike's face.

“Yeah, so...just wanted to tell ya.” he inched back toward the door.  Mike and I watched him awkwardly leave the solitary ward, then looked back at eachother.  Mike had a thoughtful look about him, as if he was struggling with something in his head.  The thing I always liked about Mr. Zacharius is that aside from the fact that he was probably the most chill staff member on campus, he minded his own business.  Sure, he only taught art and no one took that seriously, but he never forced students to do much of anything.  The fact that he sometimes gives me advice and urges me to do something with my life makes me feel really good.

“Y’know, when I heard what you were in here for--no, when I heard that you were in here period, it just didn’t sit right with me.” he began.  “It’s not like you to get caught. What the hell possessed you to do something like have a _fight_ in the restricted area?”

“I was pretty certain at the time that prick Ackerman had our backs...that we were a _team_.” I said bitterly, feeling pretty stupid that that phrase left my mouth.  Mike paused, then gave a slight shrug.  My time here was almost done, anyway, so there was no point in being angry about it still.  “Well, now that I know I won’t get my ass kicked by Thomas and his boys anymore, I can plan what I’ll do when I get outta here.”

“Laying low and just doing your damn schoolwork anywhere on that agenda?” Mike tilted his head.  He put it in the form of a question, but I knew it was more so serious advice.

“I gotta find a way to see him again.” I said simply.  It took Mike a moment, but he soon realized I was talking about Marco.  He shook his head at me.

“Who knows where they sent that kid, Jean? You might as well just--”

“They sent ‘im to that looney house. Survey Corps.” I interjected.  Mike’s facial expression blanked out.  “I gotta see ‘im...I just…”

“The Survey Corps, huh? One part mental institution, one part rehab center.” Mike nodded.  My eyebrows arched.  Did he know someone there? He glanced back at me and snapped out of his silence.  “Y’know, my next field trip is to the Stohess Museum of Modern Art.”

“You go there like every field trip. Modern art fucking sucks.” I scowled.  

He narrowed his eyes at me.  “The museum isn’t far from the Survey Corps.”

Oh.  That’s what this is all about.  “There’s no way I’ll get approved to go on that trip. Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman both have to sign permission slips for me to go anywhere off campus once my solitary over with…”

“You leave all that to me. Just be ready on Friday morning.” he held his hand up, headed toward the door.  I was so confused, I couldn’t even thank him as he left.  I just plopped back down on this hard twin sized mattress, unable to be bothered with it anymore.  My head has been all over the place since they stuck me in here.  I haven’t seen the outside of this cell.  All I’m left with are thoughts of him and how much of a wreck I’ve been without him.

Don't get me wrong, I can accept not seeing Marco again, if I had some sort of warning.  I can say goodbye to him and force myself to get over it.  I cannot accept it being under these circumstances, though.  There was no closure, he was ripped away from me...that was no goodbye.

_The next day…_

I’ve been up since eleven in the morning, and just lay in bed waiting for three-thirty to roll around.  A TA would soon unlock my door and tell me to pack my shit because I’m free from solitary and onto my three week probation.  I was just one step closer to finding my way back to Marco again.

I heard keys jingle from outside, and sat up to TA Petra opening the door to my lonely room.  Right on time. TA Petra was usually the one to visit my cell to drop off and pick up my meals. It's as if she volunteered to take care of me. She wouldn't say much, just give me those sad, pitying eyes...she was no doubt the nicest of the bunch, but what did that matter now?

"K-Kirschstein..." She called. A little surprised, I stopped and turned to her. Her face was struggling to be stern; she wanted to talk to me normally, but looking and acting intimidating was her job. "If you're thinking about seeing Bodt, you should just forget it."

"What..?" Were my intentions that obvious? Seeing the crushed look on my face, she back pedaled a little, then rephrased her statement. "Well...you shouldn't waste your time. It's on file that you two aren't allowed to be within 200 feet of eachother...so unless you wanna be arrested, visits are out of the question..."

There go my plans, shot to hell. I had half a mind to say _"Fuck that, I'm going anyway!"_ But I examined this exchange a little bit closer. Any other TA wouldn't bother telling me this information. If anything, they'd let me walk into that trap since it'd be one less kid to look after here...but was Petra trying to help me..?

"I guess my only option is to give up then, huh?" I hummed.

"Yes..." She nodded slowly. "While it's true that even if you DID visit, we can't punish you if you're not on Survey Corps grounds...but I trust you wouldn't take your chances like that."

She WAS helping me. She glanced around, checking her surroundings, then walked away once we left the ward.

I wasn't one to believe in fate, but two Garrison staff members were tipping me off to an illegal visit in the same day? I'd be a fool if I didn't take advantage of this information. Still, seeing Marco again was only half the battle. I wanted to get him out of there...but how?

"Kirschstein." A voice called. I looked over and saw Marlowe Freudenberg standing there alone, hands in his pockets, as if he'd been expecting me...

"Can I help you?" I inquired.

"Everyone's still talking about your fight in the hole with Thomas. A real heartwarming performance." He came closer. "You even got the brute to stop terrorizing weak kids. Brilliant."

"Hey, since he isn't so distracted with them, maybe he'll focus on the kids who really deserve their head in a toilet." I told him.

Marlowe tilted his head and held his hands behind his back. "It's funny, because there have been more altercations between Thomas' boys and _my_ faction as of late."

"Sounds like somethin' you should discuss with Thomas." I turned to continue on to my room.

"Well it isn't like he'll listen to anyone besides you." Marlowe grabbed my arm to spin me around. I snatched my arm back and shoved him.

"I ain't got nothin' to do with what happens to your shitty faction, alright?"

He shoved me back. "That's debatable, Kirschstein."

"If you're lookin' for a fight with me, just cut the bullshit and swing already!" I huffed, shoving even harder. I noticed some of Thomas' boys inching closer to surround us. I instinctively put up my guard, but then I realized I was no longer a target for them. Daz appeared beside me, glaring at Marlowe.

"This asshole botherin' you, Jean?"

This felt weirder than I thought. Not only did Daz pronounce my name correctly, but he wasn't on the receiving end of a punch to the face from me.

"I knew it. You're rejected by us and so you join forces with this garbage? How laughable." Marlowe scoffed.

"That's where you'll end up if you don't shut your mouth, you jizz-sock!" Dazz barked, causing the rest of them to get wily.

"This will only confirm Historia's suspicions of you, Kirschstein." Marlowe pointed a finger at me. As Dazz and the other boys continued to chastise the outnumbered prep, I began to have a grave realization.

"Yo, Bowlcut," I called, and surprisingly, he stopped. "Who's name did you say just now?"

I knew I heard him say Christa's _real_ name...but was it a slip up? No, he's too careful. He turned, folding his arms, as if I should know. I glanced at Dazz, who was just as clueless.

"There's no point in calling her Christa anymore...the entire school and about half the town knows a member of the Reiss family attends the Garrison now." He said. My eyes widened. There's no way they think I had anything to do with that, right? "You're the only outsider who knew. She wanted to see you about it."

"You guys are way off base here..." I scoffed, holding my hands up at him.

"Then plead your case. She's waiting down at the Vale." Marlowe said. The Old Vale, the Preps' go-to hideout. It wasn't far from Hitch's beach house; it was --

"He doesn't have to plead _shiet_!" Dazz snarled. Marlowe gave me a look that let me know I'd be worse off without doing so, and I knew it. I glanced at my half-witted allies, then rolled my eyes.

"Look guys, I gotta go."

"We'll come, too!" Dazz and the others insisted.

"We have a strict rule of tracking filth in the house." Marlowe cleared his throat, sneering at my newfound friends.  I rolled my eyes at Marlowe, ashamed I ever had anything to do with he and his group (for the thousandth time).

"You just tell us if we need to crash that glass house, Jean." Dazz glared at Marlowe. He gave me his as well as Thomas and Franz's cellphone numbers before leaving me with Marlowe. Never would I ever imagined these contacts in my phone.

When we stepped off campus, Marlowe hailed a cab. Of course, the bastard decided not to say a single word to me since we left the entrance gates, just thriving off the anxiety I'm feeling. When the cab pulled up and the two of us got inside, the driver was staring right at me. At first glance, I was about to rag on him for being creepy, but I realized he was the driver who drove Kenny, Marco and I to Hitch's Halloween party...

"Heh, you look even more sinister without that Halloween make up, you little monster." The driver smirked. He started driving, so there was no way I could possibly get out of this. Marlowe's head slightly turned toward me at that comment. As much as I wanted to respond, perhaps an insult wouldn't do me much justice right now. "Where's your friend who likes bunny costumes?"

"A bunny costume..?" Marlowe hummed, slowly narrowing his eyes. Fuck this guy, seriously. Marlowe must have remembered Marco's oversized pink costume from the party. He looked over at me. I had to change the subject.

"So, when exactly did her identity leak?" I asked him, not wanting to mention Historia in front of this shitty driver.

"It started with the school...whispers and glances in the hallways. Unconventional stares in the cafeteria. A lot of our own faction members who don't know the truth started to stray away from us..." He began. "Until finally, that bald little jock peon came up to us with his two other friends shouting, _'You're Historia Reiss in the flesh and didn't tell us holy shiiieeet!'_ "

 _'Sounds like Connie.'_ I rolled my eyes.

" _Historia Reiss_ goes to school with you guys?!" The driver interjected.

Annoyed, Marlowe places his hand on the door. "Just pull over."

The car came to a stop, and Marlowe opened the door. The toll was about seventeen dollars, but he threw a fifty dollar bill into the front seat and told the man to keep the change.  The Vale sat near the docks, facing the water.  When I entered, all that greeted me were the glares and disgusted looks from the spawn of Old money.  Well I’ll be damned.  These pretentious bastards really do think I’m the one who betrayed Historia.  Even though I didn’t have anything to do with it, I still had to be worried.  Guilty until proven innocent was law at the Garrison.

Walking through the main hall of the Vale was like being walking through a lion’s den wearing a meat suit.  They all wanted to rip me apart, I know they did, but the only thing saving me from that was Marlowe.  I walked through another large door to a luxury sitting room, where the Prep figureheads resided.  Hitch and Historia sat on the couch facing the glass window-view of the water.  Historia wasn’t enjoying the view very much, though.  She was hunched over, head in her hands.  Hitch sat next to her, patting her back while scrolling through her phone.  the sight of it caused me to scoff, which got their attention.  Once Historia laid eyes on me, she rose to her feet.

“You grimy, no-good, lying son of a bitch!"

"My mother has her moments, but let's not get nasty..." I held up my hands, only pushing more of her buttons.

"Keep the sarcasm to a minimum, douchebag." Marlowe elbowed me.

"This is all your fault!" Historia jabbed her finger at Hitch, who dropped her phone from shock. "If you hadn't dated him, we wouldn't have to go through this!"

 _'We'd all be a lot better off if that relationship never happened...'_ I folded my arms and glanced off, almost forgetting that I was the one put on trial here. Historia looked absolutely delirious with anger. Her long blonde hair usually was never out of place, but it looked almost as if she'd just rolled out of bed. Her make up was always flawless and natural, but the stress was making it noticeable. I almost felt sorry for her.

"We warned you, _everyone_ warned you against it! What could you possibly expect from the son of a _self-made_ family?" Historia went on with a look of disgust. This was one of the main reasons I couldn't keep dating Hitch. Besides the fact that our union was nothing short of a disaster, my family's wealth in comparison to hers and all her shitty friends was always brought up.

If Julien or I didn't step up to the plate and continue our family's business, our cushy lifestyle would soon crumble...but Hitch and the rest of these Old Money Preps wouldn't have to work a day in their lives if they didn't want to. That was the difference.

"Before you go on about how much I'm beneath you, what makes you so sure I'm the one who did this to you?" I spoke again.

"You're the only one outside of this faction who knows..." Historia growled.

"C'mon, Historia, what motive would I have for betraying you? You kept your promise to me, so I kept your secret, honest!" I held a hand to my chest.

"How can we believe you?" Hitch scoffed. I ignored her and just stared at Historia. She wanted to believe me, but as far as she knew, I was the only one...or was I..?

 _'Ymir...'_ A lightbulb went off in my head. The answer to all their questions traced back to Hitch's Halloween party. Kenny heard Ymir say Historia's name, and must've spread it around campus while I was locked up. everything leads up to this moment...but before I can explain all that, I had to admit my own wrongdoing against the preps.

"You know I'm not the only one who knew..." I began. Hitch and Marlowe rolled their eyes or just glared at me in disbelief; Historia, however, noticed my tone and just stared to see where I was going with this.

"I'll tell ya what I know, but you gotta realize this wasn't my fault."

"We'll see about that." Marlowe said.

"Your party...I was there, with Marco and Kenny Ackerman." I began. Historia and Marlowe fell silent, as if suddenly lost in thought.

"Ugh! You weren't invited!" Hitch broke the silence.

"Of course they weren't _invited_ , you bimbo, he's saying he's got something to do with ruining it!" Marlowe palmed his forehead.

"I had a lot to do with ruining it..." I nodded, grabbing their attention. "Kenny was obsessed. He was suspicious of the party. You heard ‘im in the basement! He wants to take over the school and whatever..."

"So, you poisoned my dog?" The tiny girl growled, making me shudder a little.

"Kenny did. Marco and I didn't wanna do it..." I answered. They each exchanged a look of deliberation, almost wondering if they should believe me. I probably should've left it at that, but I always had a knack for digging myself a deeper hole.

“But we all saw you outside with Ymir. She called you by your name. Who’s to say she didn’t out you?”

Marlowe and Hitch jerked their heads toward me, then at their leader, in utter shock.  Historia turned pale, and honestly, I didn’t know how much I screwed myself in that moment.

“Did you honestly just accuse Historia Reiss of associating with that lowlife!?” Marlowe grabbed my collar.  I shoved him off, causing him to stumble.

“Is it that unbelievable? Just admit it. Show her you ain’t scared.” I held my hands out at Historia.  She flinched, realizing I’m throwing Ymir’s words to her back in her face.  She just stood there, frozen, and it made Hitch incredibly nervous.

"Just get him outta here, Marlowe!"

"Hey, I ain't saying Ymir did it, but I'm sure Kenny was the one who--" I tried to say, but Marlowe inched closer to grab me.  The look on his face let me know that he wasn't interested in hearing anything else.  I stepped back, hands in the air.  “I get the message, I’m leaving, alright?”

“You oughta go faster than that.” he growled.

Even when I returned to the main hall where all the other preps were, none of them bothered me.  I was a little surprised, but I wouldn’t jinx myself by wondering any more.  They wanted information out of me and they got it, right?

* * *

I’m on probation right now, and should get back on campus as quickly as I could, but I decided to walk back to the Garrison, wrecking my brain on what I was going to do about Marco.  It was great Mike was giving me the chance to see him tomorrow, but I wanted to get him /out.  All the money in the world can’t buy his way out of there.

"Jean!" A voice called. I flinched, instinctively on my guard. Surprisingly, it wasn't a threat. It was Franz Kefka calling out to me. "Did ya get your slingshot back?"

"Yeah..." I nodded. I wasn't sure if I'd ever get used to these guys helping me. "Thanks, man...sorry about all that."

"You didn't rip one in my face, it's alright." He shrugged. "Listen, can you help me with somethin'? The other guys wouldn't understand..."

I looked at him, a little caught off guard by the blush on his face. He was facing me, but his eyes were on something in the distance. I turned, seeing Hannah walking with a couple girls from the Nerd faction. Seeing her immediately made me remember her crush on Marco.  It shouldn’t have, but it brought a scowl to my face. Honestly, I need to chill.

"D-Don't look, idiot!" Franz whisper-shouted.

"You gotta thing for Hannah?" I held my thumb over my shoulder. He slapped my hand down, hoping I didn't get her attention. The two girls didn't notice us near the doors at all, even when we sat in awkward silence waiting for them to walk past. When Franz finally felt comfortable enough to breathe, I continued. "Dude. You _bully_ her and her friends."

" _Bullied_. Past tense. I ain't about that anymore!" He protested.

"Since what, _yesterday?_ " I tilted my head with narrowed eyes. "Besides, Nerds never forget!"

He was about to continue, but a couple shadows interrupted our conversation. I looked up, seeing principal Erwin Smith and Vice Principal Levi Ackerman, glowering down at me.  Good thing we were near the Boys Dorm, else I'd be right back in trouble for violating probation.

"Mister Kirschstein," Mr. Smith began, opening his folder. "It's quite exciting how much solitary has strengthened your will to learn."

"What?" I blinked.

"You want to go to the museum with Mr. Zacharius, don't you? Are you sure it's not just to skip out on classes? I'm surprised you actually did your schoolwork in your cell." Mr. Ackerman scoffed.

"Well I was required to turn in something in order to eat, but yeah..."

"Keep it up, wiseass, and see if you'll be going on that field trip tomorrow." He snapped the paper at me. Normally, I wouldn't care, but Marco was at stake. I did what I could, for him.

"I appreciate this." I said bitterly, taking the permission slip from the smaller man's hands. Franz looked over at me, a little surprised.

"That's more like it, Jean." Mr. Smith smiled, turning to leave. "We expect nothing short of greatness from you, and this is a good start."

The two of them continued on their way, leaving me in a bad mood.

"Man...those two are the fuckin' worst." Franz scoffed. "What I wouldn't give to have the tables turned, where I'm the one who calls the shots!"

"Don't hold your breath." I folded the slip and put it in my pocket. I just wanted to go to my room and forget all about this day.

"But what if, right? What if there was a way to knock those two down a peg?" Franz trailed me. "Ugh, but there's no way they'd let anything happen to the other. They're always gonna watch the other's back. It's a little creepy how they're always together n' shit."

My eyes widened and I started to slow down. I couldn't believe I was so wrapped up in everything, I didn't realize I actually _had_ the power to ruin the admins. _Franz_ of all people made me realize.

"Shit, Franz...you're a fuckin' genius..." I grabbed his shoulders. He was too confused to even respond right away. I let him go and took off running to my room.

"Erm, well see ya at dinner then!"

Without any further interruptions, I made it into the boys dorm, ignoring stares from floormates and classmates who haven't seen me in two weeks. I burst into my room, seeing my roommate on his bed...on top of someone else.

"Fucking shit, Connie! You said he wouldn't be back today!" Sasha Braus shoved him off, reaching for her bra hanging off the bunk. I just rolled my eyes and headed straight for my bed and laptop.

"He wasn't s'posed to be!" Connie said, trying to stop her from getting dressed. "Sash! Sash, wait..!"

I went through my phone's albums, scrolling right down to the explicit video of my school administrators having sex in the office after hours.

"Here. It ain't much, but I'm sure you'll want somethin' to keep your mouth shut." Sasha threw an eighth at me.

"Is there somewhere else we can go? We don't have to fool around or nothin'...I just wanna be with you..." Connie said softly.

"I'll text you." Sasha murmured, kissing his cheek and quickly leaving, her hair still undone. My eyebrows arched. I was honestly a little surprised by how sweet Connie was just now. Maybe he isn't so much of an asshole.

He turned to me with a glare. "Thanks a lot, fucktruck, for bein' such a cockblock!"

Alright, nevermind, he'll always be an asshole. I plugged my phone into my laptop, and as soon as it synced, my options were brought up on the screen. I immediately downloaded the video onto my computer, and just to be safe, I also downloaded the video to two seperate flash drives. I would keep one in my pocket, and another hidden in my room.

Those assholes are gonna wish they kept Marco here, so they could beg him for my mercy.

I went to eat dinner with Thomas and his boys, waiting for the bell to ring and dismiss all students to their dormitories. I had a solid plan in mind. It was incredibly risky, now that I was really thinking about it. What if they chose not to listen to me, and arrest me right on the spot? I wondered who I could enlist to be in on this just in case I couldn't pull it off alone...but who? Thomas and his boys were way too dim to even be lowkey about it, The preps, burnouts and Jocks all hate or don’t want anything to do with me, and just when I thought I could depend Armin and his band of geeks, they’re AWOL.  At this point, the smart thing to do would be to hold off on this, but the promise of seeing Marco again was all I could think about.

_DING DING DING_

Dinner was over, and now was when I had to spring into action.  I nearly shot up from my seat, eager to throw my tray out.  I insisted that I would see Thomas when I got back to the Boys Dorm and that I had to take care of something first.  I clutched the flash drive in my pocket, growing more confident about this as I drew closer to the admins’ office.  There were less kids shuffling through the halls as time went by.  I made sure to avoid being spotted by any TAs who would order me to leave the building.

I saw Vice Principal Ackerman stepped out of the office, and of course, Principal Smith followed.  I had to remind myself not to break the damn USB in my hand since I was clutching it so tightly, atleast until I showed them what I knew about them.  Mr. Ackerman noticed me behind them, and was beginning to slow down.  The adrenaline was beginning to rise as I took faster steps toward them.  I was doing this.  I was going to exploit and blackmail the shit out of these assholes for what they’d done.  I was going to get Marco back by any means…

“Jean!” I felt someone grab me by the arm, jerking me to a stop.  It was Mike.  I glanced back at the admins, seeing that Mr. Ackerman had completely disregarded me and trailed Mr. Smith out.  I huffed, shaking Mike’s hand off of me.

“Well, aren’t I fuckin’ popular today?”

“Was I interupting something?” Mike hummed.  I opened my mouth to angrily give him an earful, but I paused, thinking that maybe it wasn’t the best idea.  Mike may have been trustworthy as far as being the coolest Garrison employee, but he was still a Garrison employee nonetheless.  He managed to convince the admins to let me go on the field trip tomorrow, which clearly states that he’s close with them.  If I give any inkling that I’m going to try to hurt the admins, I can’t trust that Mike will let me get away with it, nor will I put him in a position to even think about it.

“I am kinda in a hurry…” I left it at that, eyeing the admins leave the building.  I had to catch them atleast before they reached the parking lot.

“Well, if you’re planning on seeing your friend, you might wanna hear me out.” he said lowly, looking around for any listening bystanders.  I put my rush to the side and inched closer to him, giving him my undivided attention.  “You don’t have the slightest idea on how you’re gonna even get close to him, do you?”

TA Petra mentioned to me earlier that Marco and I can’t be within 200 feet of eachother, which let me down a little.  “You got any ideas?”

He folded his arms and got even closer.  “The Survey Corps has an unguarded blind spot near the west end of the facility, there’s a particular patient who likes to sit near there, it’s the only spot on the facility he feels the most calm, so no one bothers him.”

“I gotta get through him, huh?” I nodded, mentally preparing for a fight.

“No, idiot, he’s your only way of not being noticed.” Mike nudged me.  “His name is Sawney. He’s always outside during the day, and he knows practically everyone there, so he’d have seen your guy. Be nice.”

“I am nice…” I scowled as he shook his head at me.”

“This whole ordeal is still new to you both...so try not to come up with anything stupid. Atleast talk to him first.” Mike said with a sigh.  

I just stood there as the halls cleared, staring at him.  A good couple minutes passed, and cleared his throat, hinting that it was getting awkward.  I averted my awestruck gaze, then just plainly asked, “You sure do know a hell of a lot. Did you know someone there?”

He sniffled, rubbing his nose.  “Bus leaves here at 8AM. Leaves the museum at 2:30. If you’re not on time, leave me out of it.”

“I could hug you, dude.”

“Please don’t hug me. And please don’t fuck this up.” he held his hand up.  

As I mentioned before, the cool thing about Mike Zacharius was that he minded his own business.  I honestly don’t know a whole lot about him, but something about what happened to Marco and I struck a chord in him somehow, where he felt so obligated to stick his neck out and help me.

I would only be wasting time wondering.  He was right.  Before I make the decision to ruin the admins’ lives, I had to run it by Marco first.  I mean, if anything, he’ll probably advise me against it, but I had to tell him.  It seemed like the only way to get him out of there and back with me.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How 'bout a little reunion next week? :)))


	13. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco grows closer to The Fallen, restores his faith in Jean, and gets a lead on the mystery that is Julien Kirschstein.

Marco

 

I was so certain Jean would come back for me, but it’d been days - no, _weeks_ since I’d been here.  I started to think that maybe I was a fool for believing he could come for me...I was the idealist who put my faith in things like that, and Jean was the realist who probably knew from the very first day that we would never see each other again.  Julien didn't believe me when I said it the first time, and he surely doesn't now.  

Thanksgiving was on its way, and it seems like I’ll be spending it with a hoard of addicts and genuinely insane people.  Although, it wasn't as bad as one would think.  The patients at the Survey Corps are only depraved if you’re as cruel to them as the orderlies are.  Since sticking with Julien, Moblit, and Nanaba, I've learned the ropes of surviving here.  Having Rico on my side proved to help a lot, too.  It was still a hellhole, but it was good not to be at rock-bottom anymore.  Right now, I sat with my new friends in the rehabilitation lounge, and all they seemed to care about was what I was thrown in here for.

“I just can’t see it. If I still had my job as a TA, the _least_ I can see myself busting you for would probably be a late library book.” Nanaba said as the rest of us laughed.  Jean said something similar to me...and remembering that only made me not want to talk about it.

“I can’t see you as a TA. They’re all assholes…” I placed my hand to my side, remembering how badly I was tased before coming here.

“Yeah...Petra Ral was probably the only one I could kinda get along with.” she said.  “I hated that job...I hated that school.”

"Why'd they put you away?" I asked.

"Well...I'm an artist, but I usually get my inspiration in pretty unconventional ways..." She said. "My best friend and I used to high all the time together, and just make art. It was the life!"

"But they caught you under the influence at work, huh?" I thought I knew where it was going.

"Yeah. Maybe they'd have let me off the hook if it was just weed, but they caught me in the supply closet naked, covered in paint and tripping on Molly's..." She said it so casually. My mouth fell agape from the shock, especially at Julien and Moblit not phased in the slightest by this. They just kept the conversation going, as if this was normal.

“I remember when Nanaba was a TA. She’d let us get away with _anything_!” Moblit elbowed the blonde beside him.  “I always wondered why she didn’t just quit if she hated it so damn much, but then I realized she and that sniffling art teacher had a thing for each--oof!”

Moblit was soon cut off by a blushing Nanaba punching him in the arm.  Julien began to make obnoxious hooting noises at the comment and reaction, despite him probably knowing all along.  It took me a moment, but then I remembered the art teacher.

“Mr. Zacharius?” I tilted my head.

"Who d'you think this 'best friend' is?" Julien chuckled. My eyes widened. For some reason I'm not surprised in the slightest by the fact that Mr. Zacharius does drugs, but he and former TA Nanaba were...really serious at one point...

She looked away from all of us, confirming the affair was true. "He comes around to see me sometimes...he says he'll get me outta here, but it's getting harder to believe 'im."

I guess it wasn't just me who hoped and prayed for someone to save them before just accepting that no one would. "How long 'til you're done?"

"Moblit and I will both be out in two more months! I can't wait." She sighed with a smile.

"Two years in this place...that'll really make you crazy." Moblit hummed. Nanaba was twenty-one when she was admitted here, making her twenty-three now. Moblit was only seventeen, making him nineteen now. I couldn't fathom wasting that much of my life in here.

“What are you in here for anyway, Moblit?” I nodded my head at him.  He passed a hand through his hair, and leaned back on his chair.

“Well...the only person who made school bearable was my favorite teacher, Miss Hanji.”

“Nerd.” Julien scoffed, inciting giggles from the rest of us.

“Yeah, fine, say what you want, but helping Miss Hanji in the lab would be the only thing I looked forward to.

“The creepy chemistry teacher?" Nanaba made a face at him.

"She is not creepy!" Moblit protested. "Anyway, I was working on something alone in the lab, and when I made an exciting breakthrough, I went to tell Hanji about it! But by the time I came back, the lab was on fire."

"Who did it?" I inquired.

"It was those stupid damn Jocks, I know it! Those bunch of monkeys win trophies for the school, and admins let them do whatever they want...even believe their story on how I tried to burn the school down from the Chem lab!” he went on.  I never did like the Jocks, but upon hearing what they did to Moblit, it only made me dislike them more.  “Miss Hanji must be miserable without me…”

“She gets by with Armin pretty well.” I shrugged.

“What!” Moblit shrieked. "How can she replace me with that scrawny bug-eyed twerp?!"

"I'm sure she didn't _replace_ you..." I told him, regretting mentioning Armin now.  

"As soon as we're thrown in here, we become 'The Fallen', and soon enough people forget about us." Julien shrugged.

"People still remember you." I told him. He looked at me with slight surprise, unaware of the impact he's left on the Garrison. "You're still pretty famous there."

"I never understood why I got so much hype. I never did anything at the Garrison I didn't have to." He shrugged. "Everything I ever did was for my brother."

I just watched him, remembering how grateful Jean was for that. "Even being thrown in here?"

He frowned. "No. I was betrayed by my so-called best friend."

"Kenny Ackerman..." I grumbled.

“Yeah..!” Julz looked at me, surprised I knew who he was talking about.  “I had a thing for one of the Burnouts...and I think she might’ve liked me too. Kenny suggested we use the union to our advantage and get in on the drug trafficking they’re known for. But last year, at the carnival, he set me up to deal to an undercover cop.”

"Holy shit, Julz..." Moblit blinked, taken back. Jean and I never really had any contact with the Burnouts, other than the brief encounter we had catching Sasha and Connie together...but besides that, Ymir, Sasha, and Annie were a mystery.

It turns out that Ymir and her clique knew Julien, but do they know what happened? Do they know Kenny set him up and jeopardized the rest of the clique? And on a lesser note, if Julien was dating someone from Ymir’s clique, and Jean was dating Hitch from the Prep clique, could the reason they hate each other now be because of the Kirschstein brothers? There were so many unanswered questions, and it was starting to make my head hurt.

"Ugh, I need to get outside. Talking about that place makes me antsy." Nanaba rose from her seat. The rest of us soon followed.

Whenever the psyche ward patients were allowed outside for fresh air, there was an orderly for every two patients, and they weren't allowed to do too much of anything. Rehabilitation patients had more lenient outside privileges. They got to go and come back whenever they felt like it.

Moblit and I were psyche ward patients, and are supposed to be put under more of a strict watch, but lately, once the higher ups noticed me hanging out with Julien, they bothered me a lot less than when I started out.

I looked over at Julien, wondering why he has such power over this place. He caught me looking and just smiled at me. His smile was seemed so pure, it almost made me feel bad for being suspicious.

"So uh...what's Jean like now?" Julien asked, rushing to my side.

I cracked a smile. "First, what was he like when you were there?"

"Well, like I said before, he's a hard person to like..." He shrugged.

"That's still true." I said. It's amazing how close I became with him, alliances aside. I'm still shocked I have romantic feelings for him, even now.

"But even though he acts like an ass, it's just an act. My brother appreciates friendship and loyalty more than anything in this world." Julien said, actually surprising me a little. "He likes to show others his worst on purpose, and if they stick around and prove themselves, he gives them nothing but the best. That's why I never scolded Jean whenever my friends complained about what a jerk he was, 'cause I know what he's doing."

At that moment, I never felt luckier. I could have put my foot down and demanded that Jean leave me alone, that I didn't want to put up with him anymore...but I didn't. It was just his way of not getting hurt, and I passed the test. "Jean...really does try to hide his big heart." I felt a warmness in my cheeks. Before I could give myself away, I continued. "He's been surviving at the Garrison living by your rules."

"My rules?" Those blue eyes widened.

"Y'know, 'It's sink or swim', or 'You can't trust everyone!', or 'Let's get high out of our skulls and talk through our problems'..." I told him as he laughed. "And Snapper! We protect Snapper with our life."

" _We_?" His eyebrows arched, a smirk pulling at his lips. My face flushed again. "He let you touch Snapper?"

"W-Well, yeah...he's a little mad I shoot better, but y’know..." I chuckled nervously. "I know how important it is to him."

We made our way out the door, into the autumn breeze.  An orderly stopped each of us at the door, and we had to let him cuff a fence bracelet on our ankle. As if the Survey Corps couldn't get any less humane, patients could enjoy outside privileges so long as they put on their tracking bracelets stay three feet away from the surrounding fence. The tracking bracelets was to help prevent any potential escapes. If I were to get too close to the fence, I would be electrocuted with a whopping 900 volts.

I felt the sting of being tased, and being shocked again by fence was nowhere on my to-do list.  I stepped onto the dry, dying grass, waiting for Julien to join me.  Moblit and Nanaba walked off together, chatting more about their experiences at the Garrison.  Julien caught up, throwing the leg of his pants over the anklet.

"Sorry Kenny fucked you over like this. What was Jean’s punishment?” he asked.

“Solitary. It’s only his second strike, so they went easy on him.” I answered.  He nodded, possibly satisfied with the punishment since it wasn't too bad.  “He wanted to rip Kenny in two, but I know the betrayal really hurt ‘im.”

“Kenny Ackerman taught me everything I know now. He was like an older brother to Jean, too. To have him just throw us away like we never mattered…” Julien folded his arms, staring down at the ground.  “I wanna fuckin’ strangle 'im. If I had the chance, I woulda told Jean something, _anything_ to prevent him from ever trusting that prick.”

I wanted to say that he could tell Jean whatever else he knows now.  I wanted to say that Jean would come around any day now, but it’s been so long, what if he’s still in Solitary? What if they never let him off campus?

“I’m sure if you really wanted him to know you were here, they would've let you reach out to ‘im.” I said.

He gave me a side eye.  “What makes you say that?”

“I mean, they kinda let you do whatever you want around here. You got me out of a serious punishment.” I shrugged, although I was incredibly suspicious.

“I’m on a roll for good behavior.” he averted his gaze.  Bullshit.  Even if I wouldn't see Jean again, I know I’d get a hold of him when I’m released back into my parents’ custody.  I have to find out what Julz is hiding and tell him.  

The two of us came to a halt once we noticed Moblit shuffling toward us.  He was walking with a sense of urgency, careful not to look like he was running to any of the orderlies walking around.  He was obviously trying not to attract any extra attention.  “You will _never_ believe who’s at the fence.”

“The fence?” I blinked.

“Not Nanaba’s sniffly boyfriend?” Julien tilted his head, hands in his pockets.  Moblit violently shook his head.

“It’s a Garrison kid..!”

Julien became tense.  He glanced around, then leaned a bit closer to Moblit.  “It’s not a tall chick with freckles, is it?

Freckled girl from the Garrison? That description fit the one and only Burnout leader, Ymir.  Julien still had ties with her? Moblit looked over at me, and said the words I didn’t think I’d hear.

“Says his name’s Jean. He’s lookin’ for you, Marco.”

Time froze, for me _and_ Julien.  My heart was going to beat out of my chest from how excited I was.  Julz, on the other hand looked like he wanted to vomit.  This was it, the slim chance in hell Julz was talking about.  I turned to him, hoping that maybe - with some coddling - Julien would change his mind about all this.  However, I had another thing coming.

Julien grabbed Moblit by the shoulders.  “You didn’t say my name or anything, did you?”

“N-No, dude, chill…” Moblit wiggled himself out of the harsh grip.  He rubbed his shoulders, face contorted from the discomfort.  “He’s your little brother, isn’t he? What the hell are you so worked up for?”

Julien didn’t answer, he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and panic I doubt he even heard him.  He looked back at me.  “Remember our promise?”

I frowned, really not wanting to go through with it.  This could be their only chance.  I tried one last time to change his mind.  “Julz, don’t you think--”

“You _made_ me a _promise_.” he grabbed my arm; His piercing blue eyes seemed to rip right through me.  Realizing he was being harsh, he backed off again.  “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

“You don’t know…” I began, but he turned away from me and looked over at Moblit.

“Go ahead and ‘im.”

Although Moblit had his doubts about Julien written all over his face after this exchange, he agreed.  “C’mon, Marco.”

As much as I wanted to keep pushing, I had to drop it. I thought that if I became close to Julz, he would open up on why he refuses to acknowledge Jean, but it seemed like he has a deep, dark reason as to why...

Moblit and I approached a rather large man sitting in the grass near a tuft of bushes. Nanaba crawled from our of the bushes and just stared at me, studying.

"It's a good thing I didn't mention Julz, huh..?"

I honestly didn't know what to say, especially when it didn't seem to matter since Julien didn't want anything to do with Jean right now. Moblit gestured toward the large man playing in the dirt.

"This is Sawney. He'll tell you when an orderly's coming. Right, Sawney?" Moblit patted the man's head. The man scratched his head and nodded timidly.

"I'm Marco. Thanks for being lookout, Sawney." I offered him a smile. The man seemed a little surprised, then looked away. Moblit nudged me along, signaling me to take advantage of my time.

I hurried through the bushes, carefully calculating my distance from the deadly fence. I looked up, and there he was, on the other side of that fence, clutching and shaking it, as if he was trying to get inside.  Butterflies were attacking my stomach, and a grin spread across my face.

“You’re here…”

Finally noticing me, he stopped yanking at the fence for a moment, taking a long hard look at me.  My cheeks flushed, because it was the first time in days I actually wondered how I looked to someone else.

“Marco…” his fingers curled around the wire.  It’d only been about three weeks, but here we are, close to tears about this reunion.  “What’re you doing all the way over there? C’mere.”

Oh god, I only wish I could get closer.  “I can’t...”

“What?” his eyebrows furrowed.  I lifted my pant leg, showing him the anklet.  He must not have known what it would do exactly, but seeing it was enough to piss him off.  “What the fuck is this place..?”

“Worse than the Garrison.” I mumbled.  He tried to fit his hand through the hole of the fence, but it wasn't nearly enough.  I desperately wanted to touch him again, especially seeing as how he wanted the same.  Now that I'm seeing Jean, like I wanted, I couldn't help but wonder what to do now.  Was I selfish for wanting more? Wanting a way to touch him?

“I’m gonna get you outta here.” he said.  Well, I wanted a way, but nothing dangerous.  He had to explain this.

“What?”

“I’m gonna convince the admins to reinstate you."

I snorted. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all week."

" _How_ I'm gonna do that is a real knee-slapper, then." He smirked sarcastically, piquing my curiosity. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and opened his albums. My face started to droop from how nervous I was becoming when I realized what he was getting at.  He flashed an evil grin.  "Remember?"

"You're going to _blackmail_ the admins? Are you insane?" I whisper-shouted.

"I would make a crack about your choice of words there, but I figure that'd be a little insensitive..." He hummed, ignoring my obvious concern.

"Jean!"

"Oh c'mon, you're not really gonna wait 'til your parents come for you at the end of the semester, are you?" He grabbed the fence again. "I know the Garrison's a shithole, but you sure as hell don't belong in here!"

"You could be arrested...this is extortion, isn’t it? Added to your other crimes, th-that’s _prison_!”

He glanced off, and I knew he didn't have a backup plan for that. He shook his head and stared right into my eyes. "Listen, Freckles..."

It's been a while since I'd been called that. I could feel it in my chest that whatever he was about to say was going to tug at my heartstrings.  Jean kinda had a knack for that sort of thing.

"I want you back with me, at my side. If we're ever gonna say goodbye, it'll be on our terms. We're solid, remember?" He leaned into the fence, trying to get as close to me as he possibly could. "So just trust me, please?"

Jean Kirschstein doesn't say please, so I knew he acknowledges how nervous I am about his reckless plan. I rolled my eyes with a groan. "Damn it, Jean..."

He tilted his head with a mischievous grin.  He was so sure that this was going to work, I had to trust him.  What else could I do in here? I've said it before, and I’ll say it again, this jerk’s smile could probably get anything out of me.

“There’s somethin’ I wanna talk to you about, too…” he looked away.  Noticing how soft his voice became, butterflies for some reason rose up in my stomach again.  “That night, on Halloween…”

Holy hell, he _does_ remember.  My breathing hitched and I felt like I was going throw up from how nervous this was making me feel.  I had to get a handle on this, though.  I wanted to be completely ready to hear his true feelings about me.  “Y-Yeah..?”

He stared at me for a moment more, tightly curling his fingers around the fence.  I could see how red his face was getting, and felt a little better that he was just as nervous about this as I was.  He huffed, shaking his head.  “Nevermind.”

“Nevermind!?” I shrieked.

“I mean...I don’t wanna do it this way…” he said.  “Let’s wait ‘til you’re out. ‘Til I get you out, that is.”

I stood there, slack-jawed and a little angry, but then I simmered down, realizing that this was only to get me to trust him.  I nodded with a small smile.  “Okay.”

“I’ll be smart about it. It’s gonna take a while, so just sit tight, alright?” he said. Jean wasn't a gentle person, so when he spoke to me so softly like this, I couldn't help but calm down, and remember Julien's words about him giving those he truly cared about nothing but the best.

“It’s dinner time, Marco...and I’m hungry…” Sawney called.

“Just a second, we can go together!” I said over the shoulder.  I turned back to Jean, who didn’t look quite ready to leave yet.  I took a deep breath.  “Well, we’ll have people lookin’ for us if we don’t part now.”

His eyes fell to the ground.  He gave the fence one last shake.  “I hate this goddamn fence.”

 _‘I want to hug you, too…’_ I thought, just smiling at him.  I said one last thing before he turned to leave.  “You said you’ll be smart about this...remember you said that.”

“Can you be out here tomorrow at the same time?” he asked.

“Yeah!” I nodded, without even really thinking what Julien and the others had planned.  He gave me one last smile before disappearing into dark.

There was a familiar swelling in my chest once he left. Boy, did I have it bad. I put my feelings to the side and went out to walk with Sawney to the cafeteria before orderlies caught on to is being out here.

* * *

 

We had beef stew for dinner...if one could call it that. It was bland, watery, and got cold fifteen minutes into eating it. I was over complaining about the food, and just got used to forcing it down. Usually, we would all be talking and goofing off to take our minds off of how gross the food is, but things were unexpectedly quiet, especially since Julien wasn't here.

"Julz and his brother look so much alike it's insane..." Nanaba finally spoke up.

"Why doesn't he wanna see 'im? Did they have a falling out or something?" Moblit tilted his head.

"Those two are completely dedicated to eachother. There's another reason." I said, hoping they could provide any leads at all, but they didn't even know Jean existed. Instead, I asked about any previous involvements. "What about the situation with the Burnouts? Is Julz still tied to them?"

"Whoa, you're askin' a lot of questions, Bodt." Nanaba held her hand up. "Heavy shit like that is something only Julz can tell you."

I rolled my eyes with a scoff. "As if he'd--"

"He's almost always in the warden’s office this time of the week." She glanced around.  It took me a moment, but I realized the warden was Mr. Woerman.

"This is routine..?" I tuned in, intrigued.

"Go check it out yourself.” Moblit mumbled, picking at his stew.  They both seemed to leave things at that, and of course, I left the table to take them up on it.  Fortunately for me, there was an increase of tantrums from other patients, leading the orderlies to be preoccupied with them.  The few who usually guarded the cafeteria doors were busy bothering a young man yelling at his shadow, and that left me to sneak off down the hall to the office.

Beside Mr. Woerman’s office was Rico Brzenska’s office.  Her door was wide open and I saw her at her desk, silently doing paperwork.  The warden, however, had his door closed.  There were voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.  Suddenly, the door swung open, leaving me no time to back away.  

“Can I help you with something, boy?” The warden laid those big, sunken eyes on me.  I immediately noticed something off about him.  His eyebrow was slightly twitching, and his breathing was a little faster.  As Moblit and Nanaba said, Julien was in the office, rubbing his nose.  When I didn’t reply right away, he huffed, getting a little more aggressive.  “You came to my office just to stand here and stare at me? How’d you even get here without an orderly?”

Julien sprang into action, sliding out the door to stand beside me.  “U-Um, he was just lookin’ for me. This is Marco, remember? The kid we were talkin’ about.”

My eyebrow arched as I glanced at the both of them.  They were talking about me? The warden nodded, swiping at his nose.  “Ahh, I see. You sure you’re not havin’ problems with this guy? Did he ask you to--”

“No, he’s my friend.” Julien said firmly, grabbing my arm.  This was getting weirder by the second.  I didn’t have a clue as to what to say right now, I was so confused.  Julien took a step back, taking me with him, softening his tone.  “Thanks, sir. I’ll take Marco to his room.”

Mr. Woerman sniffled, glancing in other directions, as if he was being watched, then nodded.  “Alright, then. I’ll let you know, Kirschstein. You boys stay out of trouble.”

He shut his door.  Julien pulled me in the opposite direction, letting go once we got far away enough.  I saw Rico standing up at her desk, as  if she was listening on what happened just now.

Julien sniffled, rubbing his nose.  My eyebrows furrowed and I leaned closer to get a better look at his face.  “You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” he flinched, continuing to walk ahead to me.  He suddenly slowed his pace down again, looking back at me with a smile.  “It’s just that...the surprise is ruined, y’know?”

“Surprise?” I blinked.

“Yeah, man! I uh, convinced the warden to switch you out of the psyche ward.” he said.  My eyes widened from shock.  Why? How? He sniffled again, walking near the direction of the psyche ward.  “I mean, you just gotta learn how to control your anger, right? That blind rage stuff doesn’t sound at all like your fault.”

“H-He told you what happened..?”

Julien glanced at me, backpedaling.  “Only ‘cause I asked, y’know? I wanted to know more about what happened to you and Jean.”

 _‘He’s still not allowed to tell you...’_ I folded my arms, feeling even more weirded out.  Just what is going on between Julz and Mr. Woerman?

“Look, the point is that we gotta program to help that kinda thing in the rehab center, so why not?” he said.  I couldn’t even focus on what he was saying, because we were approaching the psyche ward.  Every few rooms is guarded by an orderly, and no patient is allowed to wander through these halls unattended...but here I am, strolling through the corridor with Julien, not being bothered in the slightest.

“Unit seven, yeah? This you?” he rubbed his nose.  I gave him a side eye.  The warden told him my room number, too? Instead of bringing it up, I just nodded.  He motioned for an orderly to open my door.  “Consider this your last night here. And no need to worry about ice cold showers at night, either.”

“Thanks, Julz…” I said slowly, feeling unsettled.  He nodded, and turned to leave.  I backed into my room, and the heavy metal door was shut.  There were so many questions I wanted to ask him, and I felt bad for not saying much of anything at all.

* * *

 

I never got used to these freezing two-minute showers.  Early November changed the temperature even in here; the sooner I get to my bed and wrap myself in my sheets, the better.  However, as I was escorted back to my room, I saw Rico Brzenska standing there waiting for me.

"Marco," she noticed me coming. The orderly near my door opened it and let us inside. When Rico noticed him come in with us, she stopped, giving him a stern stare.  This prompted him to leave the room and make me incredibly nervous.  She turned back to me and offered me a small smile.  I couldn't bother with the gesture, especially since I was wet and shivering in just a towel.  She turned her back to me.  “I hope you don’t mind, but please go ahead and change clothes. I have something important to ask.”

I glanced right, then left, wondering if something like this was even legal, but I shrugged, too cold to really care.  When she heard my shuffling, she took a deep breath and began.

“Did Julien Kirschstein tell you to meet him outside the office?”

I just stared at the back of her head, thinking she already knew the answer.  “No.”

“You came looking for him, right? You knew he would be there.” she said.

I wanted to keep playing dumb about this, but after a moment of consideration, I figured it would just be pointless.  We both just knew something was up with Julien and the warden, we just don’t know what...or atleast, I don’t.  “So you know about them, then? The meetings?”

“I’ve tried reasoning with each of The Fallen. They’re either too stubborn or too stupid to help me out.”

“With what?” I inquired, putting my boxer shorts on.

“With Kitts!” she slightly turned her head, then flinched, realizing I was still naked.  “Mr. Woerman...he’s twisted and I want to expose that.”

“What d’you mean?” I tilted my head, feeling a twisting in my stomach.  She placed her hands behind her back.

“Mr. Woerman’s family founded the Survey Corps a long time ago. It used to be an asylum.”

 _‘Still kinda is, but whatever...’_ I glanced off, letting her continue.

“Kitts founded the rehabilitation center as a testament to his own victory over his cocaine addiction…”

“What’s this about, Miss Rico?” I asked, fully dressed and ready for her to get to the point.  She turned around, completely serious.

“Kitts never beat his cocaine addiction. Julien Kirschstein was arrested for drug abuse and possession and sent here to clean up before finishing his sentence...but Kirschstein never kicked his habit, either.” she told me.  I just sat down on my bed, knocked over from the shock.  Why didn’t I notice it at the office? All the twitching, sniffling, nose-rubbing, why didn’t I piece it together?

“That’s why Julz runs the place…” I murmured, regretting I let that slip out loud.

“See? He only has this much freedom because he still somehow has access to a supplier.” she came closer to me.  “Marco...I know you can help.”

“Help? What?” I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around all this sudden information.

“Shut down this vile establishment. No one is truly being treated here, and you know it. Hell, _you_ don’t even need treatment!”

I looked up at her, holding my hand to my head.  “Why d’you care? What makes you wanna help these people?”

She paused.  I immediately knew that her silence meant that she didn’t really give a damn about anyone in here, she was only concerned about settling whatever personal score she had with the warden.  I just looked away, not caring to hear her explanation.

“Does it matter? D'you want to stay here?" she asked, knowing the answer.  Though this was all so sudden, I had to also wrap my mind around the fact that this was an easier way to get out of here without Jean having to go through the dangerous trial of blackmailing the administrators for my freedom.  At the same time, what would happen to Julien? Rico knew I wouldn't answer right away, so she just left me with this.  "I don't know what's making you hesitate, but I know it has something to do with doing the right thing. You'll soon learn that you can be as good to this wretched world as you want to, you'll be left with shit."

With that, she left.  She was absolutely right.  There was no way to get out of this without hurting Jean, or Julien.  All I can do is make a choice, and hope it's the right one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayo!  
> I SWEAR TO GOD, THIS SERIES WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A LIGHTHEARTED COMEDY. HOW DID WE WANDER INTO THE TERRITORY OF PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA, DRUG TRAFFICKING, UNDERAGE COCAINE ADDICTIONS AND CUTTHROAT DECISION-MAKING  
> Idk. Next chapter is Jean's POV and it'll be exciting! So, tell me what you think, shoot me an ask on tumblr, whatever to pass the time til next week!  
> See you soon guys! :)


	14. Top of the Shit List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you’re afraid of anyone with the last name Ackerman...

Jean

 

Gym class was on Wednesday afternoons, and as usual, I stuck around for attendance and snuck out.  I would head over to the art room, but first, I wanted to make myself as clear to the admins as possible.  I was definitely going to do it this time. Maybe it was a bad idea to blackmail my school administrators when I was supposed to be in class - hell, especially when I'm on _probation_ , but _I'm_ the one with the upper hand here. I couldn't wait any longer, not while Marco's waiting for me.

When I stepped into the office, gym clothes and all, I got an immediate response from Vice Principal Ackerman, who was sitting at the front desk, filing his nails.

"Hey, don't step foot in here, not when you reek of dirt and sweat..."

"Trust me, I smell like the shower I took this morning." I held my hand up. A little surprised at my insolence, he folded his arms.

"This must be important to admit you're not participating in class."

I couldn't falter now. "Yeah. It is. I wanna see Mr. Smith."

"What about?" He scoffed.

"You'll both find out." I fished the flash drive out of my pocket. He looked at the tiny drive, unfazed. I glanced out the door, then back at him, moving closer. "Unless you two want this lovely video of you uploaded to pornhub, you oughta hear me out."

He tilted his head, calmly placing both hands on either sides of the desk, leaning a little closer to me. "What did you just say?"

I felt a dryness in the back of my throat.  I took a deep breath and reiterated. "You and Principal Smith. In that very same office after hours. Bumpin' uglies in the dark?"

His dark eyes widened. Suddenly, I felt my collar yanked down with such force, it might have sprained my neck. My head slammed down on the front desk, and my vision blurred for just a moment.  His hand was pressed at the back of my neck, and there was no moving.  The flashdrive flew out of my hand and across the carpet.  Nice one, Kirschstein.

"What the fuck are you saying, you little shit?"

Okay, it takes quite a lot for me to actually be afraid of someone, and Mr. Ackerman has the potential right now to make me piss myself if he really wanted to.

"Levi!" Mr. smith's voice bellowed, and Mr. Ackerman immediately let go, causing me go fall to the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" He whisper-shouted. He didn't even answer. His eyes were set on the flash drive that fell out of my hand and tumbled across the carpet. He held the blank drive in his hand, examining it.  "Levi - What is going on?" Mr. Smith asked again as Mr. Ackerman bolted into the his office and headed straight for his computer. Mr. Smith glanced back at me, then followed his assistant. I scrambled to my feet and followed as well, just wanting to see the look on their faces.

By the time we all were inside, Mr. Ackerman's eyes were wide with horror. The audio fortunately wasn't that loud, and when Mr. Smith heard his own voice coming from the computer, he rushed to the door and slammed it closed.

_"W-Whoa! What're you doing!?"_

_"Ssh. I'm just gathering evidence. It looks like we'll be here a while, so why not?"_ The scratchy audio of my camera video sounded. Mr. Ackerman glared at me. My stomach sunk from fear, but there was no turning back now. I had to remind myself that I was in control.

"He was spying on us, Erwin..."

"N-No, we were there for something else...we just heard the two of you come in and hid in the closet so we wouldn't be caught..." I said, though it didn't matter now.

"So you planned this? Gathering evidence for what? How long have you known about this?" Mr. Smith grabbed my collar.

"We haven't!" I jerked away from him.

"Keep your voice down, you piece of trash..." Mr. Ackerman growled.

Mr. Smith let me go, and I stumbled back.  I straightened, looking both of them in the eyes.  "We snuck in to take care of something else. You two just happened to stumble in and unravel right in front of our hiding spot."

"So your first instinct is to record us, you fucking pervert?" Mr. Ackerman snarled.

"Hey, considering all the fucked up shit you've done to us, I'd be an idiot not to use this against you. It ain't like I enjoyed watching that..." I snorted, glancing away.

 _"Is it weird to think this is actually kinda hot?"_ I heard myself amongst all the moaning coming from the computer.  Mr. Ackerman tilted his head at the screen with a disgusted look on his face while Mr. Smith glared back at me, calling my bluff as my face turned pink.  Luckily, the subject changed.

"I fucking _told_ you I heard something back there." Mr. Ackerman snarled, causing Mr. Smith to turn away with a sigh. Even more annoyed, Mr. Ackerman continued. "All you ever care about is getting yours, maybe this'll teach you to listen to me."

"Look, I don't care what you two do behind closed doors, alright?" I held my hands up before a lovers quarrel could ensue.

"Then what do you want?" Mr. Smith inquired.

"Revenge. Isn't it obvious?" The smaller man grunted, moving closer to me. I backed away. Erwin stepped in front of me, to my surprise.

"What are you doing, Levi?"

"This little brat is trying to ruin us. Do you really want your career to end? Your school shut down because of some shitty homophobic complaints from the parents of these wealthy fuckers? Do you want everything we've worked for to fall apart over this piece of shit?" He hissed. "I can make him disappear."

My breathing hitched. Was my vice principal legitimately talking about _killing_ me?

"Do you have any idea how much he's worth? Don't be ridiculous..!" Erwin whisper-shouted.

What the actual fuck. The hit out on my life is called off only because I'm rich. My voice became shaky. "I'm right fucking here in case you forgot..!"

Mr. Ackerman turned back to me, not caring in the slightest.  "Just what do you think is going to happen?"

"Look, I'm not nearly as fucked up as you two. It's not like I _wanna_ blackmail you." I backed into a wall, holding my hands up. I didn't intend on looking like this much of a little bitch, but these men were in a completely different league.

Mr. Ackerman yanked the flash drive out of his computer and slammed a stapler on it, breaking it. "Don't worry, you won't."

Mr. Smith glanced at me, noticing that I didn't immediately panic, and went over to his desk to sit down. "You have copies, don't you?"

Mr. Ackerman jerked his head toward his boss, then over at me. My silence confirmed the answer. The vice principal was livid.

"Where are they?"

"I want you to hear me out." I held my hand up. The look on Mr. Ackerman's face was enough to tell me to put my hand back at my side before he broke it. "I...I want Marco Bodt reinstated."

"Are you fucking kidding me..." Vice principal narrowed his eyes at me. "Not money, not even a letter to the courts to leave this school...but the fucking freckled kid?"

"I have money. And even if I left this shitty school, I'd still have to go to another shitty school." I shrugged. "I can't buy his freedom. This is all I can do for him, so...I do hate you guys and all, but for the most part it ain't personal."

The two of them exchanged a look, deliberating in silence. Sure, I have the upper hand, but I know they were deliberating on whether or not to even trust me. I hated the administrators and they hated me, but this was something we had to trust each other on.

"What are your terms?" Mr. Smith finally spoke. A weight lifted off my shoulders.

"I know this'll take time, so I'll come by to check in on things every day. I want Marco to be your top priority." I began. "I'll show you exactly where I've hidden all the copies...as soon as he's re-enrolled and moved back in."

"Tch..." Mr. Ackerman folded his arms and looked away. Mr. Smith held his hand to his lover's arm.

"Fine. We will begin the process right away."

Mr. Ackerman snatched his arm back, coming toward me again. I wanted to appear atleast _somewhat_ unafraid, but Levi Ackerman saw right through me. He was small, but he wasn't one to be messed with. The side I my face was still sore from when he slammed my head against the desk not long ago. I wanted to step back, but before I knew it, I was already against the wall.

"You'd better not try to pull anything funny, Kirschstein. Who's to say you won't post that video even after we get your boyfriend back?"

"I'm telling you, I'll give you all the copies." I told him. His hand made its way around my throat, his other hand at my collar.

"You've got a hell of a lot of motive." He jerked my collar, forcing me to look at him.

"The only way that video or any copies will see the light of day is if _you_ don't get 'im back here by the end of the month!" I grunted, clutching at his grip on my collar. "I mean hey...if I exposed you two, you'd just put a hit out on me like you were just talkin' about, right? I'll be dead, but your lives'll be ruined and reputations destroyed. There's no leverage over what I got on you."

There I went again with my big mouth, but he had me against the wall, literally. What else could I do? I had to remind them that although I was scared, I was in control. He slammed me hard against the wall, his hand at my throat, not saying a word.

"Levi," Erwin stood at his desk. "This could potentially fall apart if you bruise him."

 _'Fuck you, Erwin smith...'_ is what I wanted to say, if I weren’t too busy trying to fucking breathe under the Vice Principal’s grip.  It'd be too much to ask him to care about my safety considering what I'm doing to them, after all.  Finally, he let me go, stepping back as I collapsed onto the floor.

“Get out.” He growled.  “And if you’re going to check on the progress tomorrow, check in near 5:30.”

I wanted to quip about interrupting another sex session, but after nearly being choked to death, staying silent was probably the smarter route.  I stood to my feet, collected myself, and left the office.

It was strange. walking out into the hallways littered with miserable children.  Seeing and hearing the chaos of changing classes after putting myself in such a perilous situation, it put me at ease somehow.  I didn’t even bother going out of my way to avoid certain factions as I trudged through the buildings; how could I care about clique feuds after the shit I just pulled with the administrators? Not much was known about Mr. Ackerman, but there were rumors of a mysterious, dangerous past.  What if they were plotting to kill me and make it look like some sort of accident? The least safe part of the Garrison, was the administration, and because I'm jumping into such dangerous waters, I really had to watch my back.

Speaking of people capable of making murder look like an accident, I spotted Armin Arlert wandering into Burnout territory all alone.  I’d been looking for him long before this shit storm began, where has he been? I followed the blonde come to stop near the abandoned bus.  What started out as simply approaching him turned into a steakout.  The bus was where the Burnouts dealt contraband to other students.  What was the leader of the Nerds after?

My eyes widened once I saw Annie Leonhardt opened the door and let him in.  I normally didn’t give a damn about what wasn’t my business, but I was too curious to let it go now.  I snuck closer to the bus, hoping to hear what was going on.

Annie never really dealt drugs, it was usually Sasha or Ymir’s schtick.  I knew this because my brother used to hang around the Burnouts quite a bit when he was here, and was particularly involved with Annie...atleast, that's who he wanted to be involved with.

“This should cover another month's worth, right?" I heard Armin say. I awaited Annie's response, but Armin continued. "Were you sure about this not being addictive? It's pretty safe, right?"

"Did you come here to buy or not?" Annie finally spoke.  "It's just adderall, relax. Has it been working?"

"Sorry, it's just that...it's been working so well..." Armin hummed.  I leaned against the bus, careful not to make any noise.  

“It’s for Eren, right? I’d suggest Xanax for that kid...but you know ‘im better than me, and I’m no pharmacist…” Annie said.

“Eren isn’t just some idiot with anger problems. He just has a very passionate sense of justice, and the way this world is going isn’t helping his feelings, you know? He’s a deep-thinking individual with serious communication issues.” Armin said.  I scoffed.  Is _that_ what he called it?

“Well, he’ll either die a stupid hero, or become extremely depressed when he finds out there’s no such thing as justice.” said Annie.

“I know that. It’s what happens to all of us, after all.” Armin hummed. There was a pause, almost long enough to make me walk off if I didn’t have a bone to pick with Armin.  Man, that was depressing...but it was true.  This was reality. Kids of our wealth and status learn it pretty early on.

“If I didn’t know any better...I would convince Ymir to ally with you. You're smart.” she told him.  Another long pause.  “I mean, she has thought of it, but it wouldn’t work.”

“Why would you think that?” Armin inquired.  Don’t tell me he was actually considering something like this.  With Armin’s brain and Ymir’s connections, we’re all screwed.

“You’re good people. None of you can handle getting your hands dirty.” she said.  At that moment, it made me wonder what kind of dirty business she was talking about.  From the tone of his voice, however, Armin didn’t seem to mind.

“As their leader, I fully understand that there can be ten different bad deeds to make up for what we consider to be a good one. Whether they get it or not, I take responsibility for that. We aren’t good people. No one is.”

Armin Arlert knew just how to mess with someone’s psyche.  I wasn’t regretting my decision to blackmail the administrators in order to get Marco back, and I knew my life would inevitably pave itself with corruption, but it isn’t an easy thing to accept. Still, this was worth it. Marco is worth it.

“I always thought it was interesting how you’re the only one who isn’t afraid to speak to me.” Annie finally spoke.

 _‘Resting bitch-face and cold dead eyes are a combination no one wants to mess with, maybe?’_ I thought to myself.

“Are you saying you like talking to me?” I could tell Armin was smiling as he said this.

Annie scoffed, trying to play it off.  “Sure.”

“Well, I like you too, Annie.” he said.  I heard footsteps making their way near the door of the bus.  “I’ll be seeing you again.”

I saw him exit the bus, and walk in the direction of the Library.  I switched out of stealth mode and rushed toward him.

"Yo, Armin--"

I suddenly felt a strong yank on the scruff of my shirt.  My immediate reflex was to swing the back of my hand to swat away my attacker, and when I finally turned around, I was shocked to see Mikasa Ackerman standing there, glaring at me.

“M-Mikasa…” I let my guard down.  That was all I managed to say before she threw a swift, hard punch directly in my face.  I crashed onto the ground, bumping the back of my head against the back of the school bus.  She broke the skin right on my cheekbone, because it started to sting.  I groaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of my head.

Annie stepped out of the bus, investigating what was happening outside her turf.  Armin stood beside Mikasa, and I could see from his clenched fists that he was angry.  I was on yet another person’s shit list, but this time, I had no idea what for.

“Jean Kirschstein...just how many times do you plan to insult me?” Armin growled.  I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed from confusion.  “You stole from us, betrayed us, and now you’re coming after us like we’re friends? Are you dim?”

I shook my head, still not following.  “Stole? Betrayed? Jeez, Coconut-head, what’re you--?”

Mikasa took a hard step on the ground, dangerously close to my crotch.  “You’re in no position to be calling names, Kirschstein.”

My breathing hitched, and I kept quiet.  In my honest opinion, Armin and his band of outcasts has the potential to be the strongest clique in school.  They may have been near the bottom of the hierarchy, but it was only because they’re a bunch of pacifists.  What the hell did I do to wind up here?

“You stole the basement key from Eren. Now you’re allies with the Bullies? What made you think that would fly with us?” Armin stooped down, glaring at me with those big blue eyes.

“I didn’t take anything from Jaeger! It was Kenny Ackerman!” I protested.  He tilted his head, not believing me in the slightest.

“Alright. Then where is he?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then paused, realizing how bad it would be to say that I didn’t know.  “Look, the Bullies ain’t bullies anymore. I made Thomas swear off bullying.”

Armin and Mikasa glanced at eachother, and backed away from me.

"Listen, I suggest you get to looking for that key." He said.

“ _Look_ for the key?” I gulped incredulously.  Going back to that basement? I'm still trying to fix what happened as a result of entering in the first place!

"I'm very serious about my schoolwork, Jean. If I'm too busy making your life miserable as retaliation for what you've done to us, that takes away from my schoolwork. A hundred percent turns into ninety, and teachers begin to notice this decline, and all hopes of getting back into that Ivy League college-prep are fucked because I’d be reduced to some degenerate with mediocre grades who learned nothing from his sentence in this shithole…” Armin’s face darkened.  He lightened his tone.  “None of us want that to happen.”

I was at a loss for words.  Sure, Armin Arlert wasn’t all that threatening, but there was no way I wanted Mikasa Ackerman to skin me alive if I didn’t comply with their demands.  Annie simply turned, lighting another cigarette and walked away.  

I was left there on the ground, still in my tacky gym clothes with a swelling face.  My whole head hurt from the damage it took from both Levi and Mikasa Ackerman.  I sighed, feeling all alone again.  

I wish Marco was with me right now.

I stood to my feet and checked the time, just realizing I was supposed to meet with him again.  I rushed to the Boys Dorm to change clothes.  Thankfully, Connie wasn’t in to give me any trouble, but I had something much worse coming.

As soon as I exited the dorm, I was pelted by a barrage of eggs.  Fucking eggs.  A chorus of laughter followed suit.  I swiped my face, seeing that those smarmy Preps ruined my clothes.  If it was anything I hated more, it was looking dirty.

“That's for Halloween night, _Jeen_!” one of them sneered, waving another egg around before throwing it.  I dodged, letting it hit another bystanding kid in the face.

“Which one of you wants their head in their ass first?!” I snarled, ready to pounce on whomever I could get first.

“Don’t you touch him you snotty pricks!” I heard Thomas’ voice.  A pack of Thomas’ boys charged into battle, at my defense, leaving me frozen at the door.  The three preps, seeing that they were outnumbered, turned and took off running.  Thomas slowed down at my side, shouting at his lackeys.  “Don’t come back ‘til you crush them!”

“Hey, now we can see if piss balloons work!”

“Hurry! I been drinkin’ soda all day!”

“Damn it...I gotta go.” I groaned, checking the time.

“Wanna borrow my bike?” Thomas suggested.  “Sorry ‘bout your shirt. We’ll make sure that never happens again.”

I swear, I will _never_ get used to Thomas Wagner being my friend.  “Shit, Thomas...thanks.”

“Picking on preppies are way more fun than picking on other kids." he crashed his fist into his palm.  I gave him a side-eye while retrieving his bike from the side of the building.

"Have you been messin' with the Nerds, Thomas?"

He gave me a sheepish look.  I narrowed my eyes at him, and he finally cracked.  "Okay, kinda, but only 'cause that Jaeger kid was talkin' shit!"

"That's all he ever does, Thomas! You gotta learn how to let shit go, man! Now they hate us!" I groaned.  His expression seemed indifferent, and I realized that they always hated him.  I rolled my eyes and clarified.  "Well, now they hate me."

"They startin' with you?" he asked aggressively.  I threw my hand in the air and got on the bike.

"For fuck's sake - No, Thomas. J-Just...don't mess with them anymore, alright? I'll letcha know. I'll bring this back, alright!?"

He waved as I peddled away.  "Don't worry 'bout it, man! I can just take a Preppy's bike after I beat it off 'im!"

Thomas Wagner being my "friend" meant managing practically everything he does now, and that was not a responsibility I felt like taking on, but what choice did I have? He's the only protection I have at the Garrison now that most of the factions are out for my blood.  I headed into town, retracing the field trip to that shitty Stohess MOMA, and headed down the long, dark path that lead to the Survey Corps Rehab Facility.  The autumn wind blew more orange leaves off the thin branches and seemed to blow right through my jacket.  I saw the large building up ahead, and took my usual detour toward the side of the building to avoid the guard's attention.

Like yesterday, I tried to find atleast one hole in the ground, opening, or flaw in the fences, something that could give me a chance of actually passing through the fence and joining Marco on the other side.  Heh, any chance to touch him again, I suppose...but I guess my patience had to be tried for this trial.

I hopped off of the bike and walked through the narrow pathway, retracing my steps from yesterday.  I found myself in the same place, in front of the fence.  I searched for Sawney’s figure behind the large bushes, calling out to him.

“Psst! Sawney! _Pssst_!” I rattled the gate, growing a little frustrated.  He finally peeked through the bushes, seeing that it was me, and turned back before I could say anything.  I glanced at the time again, hoping I wasn’t too late.  Just then, Marco sprang through the bushes, as if he would miss me after a second.

"Happy to see me?" I cracked a smile.

"More like wondering where you've been! The orderlies started to think I needed an ice bath with how much I've been pacing!" He responded.  It kind of hurt to smile, but I couldn't help it watching him rant and complain about his day. "And don't even get me started on how--" He stopped.  His expression softened.  "What happened to your face!?"

"Well, I ain't as pretty as you, but you don't gotta be mean about it..." I quipped.

"Jean!" he huffed, causing me to flinch a little.  The smirk on my face was frustrating him more, but I was just glad to see him.

"I had a bit of a rough day, too, that's all...If I didn't know any better, I'd say those Ackermans are related..." I said. No one has ever been able to hurt me all at once like they did.

"Huh?" Marco tilted his head. I shook my head, about to explain.

"Y'know, I don't think I told you before, but you really got through to Thomas that day. He swore off bullying and wants to be friends. Now that Thomas and his boys are on our side, Armin’s pissed off and is cutting ties. Also, the Preps fuckin’ egged me to _oblivion_ ‘cause they found out what we did on Halloween, so yeah, they hate us now, too."

"Oh Jean..." Marco gave me those sad eyes. "I hate that you're doing this alone..."

"I almost hate bringing you back to do this with me." I chuckled, looking away.

"Sure you do." He folded his arms.  I missed this guy’s smart ass responses.  "So...will the admins go through with it..?"

I didn’t want to tell him about how they contemplated having me killed, or how badly I was manhandled by Mr. Ackerman, so I just shrugged it off.  “Yeah. Just sit tight and don’t worry. You should be outta here by the month’s end at most...hell, maybe by the end of the week!”

“Th-That soon?” his eyes widened.  My eyebrows furrowed at his tone.  He glanced behind him, then looked back at me.

“I thought you’d be more excited..?” I blinked.

“I am!” he nodded abruptly.  He opened his mouth to say more, but hesitated.  I tilted my head.  “Just gotta uh...say a few goodbyes then, y’know?”

That’s right, he made friends here, friends who also didn't seem to belong in here.  Marco apparently wasn't the first kid the Garrison marked off as insane and dumped here.  The thought of it was sickening.  There was a blonde girl who met with me yesterday, Nanaba, who’s apparently a good friend of Mike.  I was supposed to deliver a message from her to him, but amongst all the craziness of then and now, I forgot.

“Well, l wouldn't tell ‘em anything. Before you know it, _everyone_ wants to be rescued from this place and I ain't doin' that...” I said.

“This place is gonna be shut down before long anyway…” he said softly.  My eyebrow arched.

“Why’s that?”

He looked back at me, pressing his lips in a thin line, as if he was keeping a secret.  “It’s just...it’s bound to, y’know?”

Vague, much? I glanced at the time, seeing that I had a little time before curfew.  This wasn't the kind of secret meeting I had in mind.  There was something off about Marco, but I couldn't put my finger on what.  I had too much on my mind to really try, anyway.

“Hey…” he called.  “If I...if I knew something you've been wanting to know, but had to keep it secret...would you hate me?”

I blinked, leaning against the fence.  “What kinda question is that?”

He bit his bottom lip, staring at the ground.  “It’s...not important.” I wanted to push him on this, but he changed the subject so quickly.  "Y'know what I wanna do when I get back?"

"What?" I inquired.  'Just say what you want and I'll make it happen.'

"I wanna get high with you again. Let's just get high out of our skulls - to another plan of existence!" he held his arms to the sky.

I snorted, already excited.  "That's _really_ fuckin' high."

"I think I'll be able to keep up with you this time! And we won't have to talk about any sad shit. Good vibes only!" he told me, those big brown eyes looking straight into mine.

"Well, I caught Sasha and Connie knockin' boots in my room, and Sasha gave me a good amount to shut me up, so we can make that happen." I shrugged.  He grinned, like a little kid getting just what he wants.  Jeez, the twisting in my chest is almost too much.  "It'll um...have to wait, though."

"Aw, why?" he inquired.

"W-Well, we got that thing we gotta talk about...I want us both sober for that conversation..." I rubbed the back of my head, looking away.  He folded his arms, and it seemed that he was a little lost on what I was even talking about, but he quickly remembered.

"We both know what happened, Jean. Why beat around the bush anymore?" he rolled his eyes.  My face started to heat him.  "We got super drunk and made out a little...if anything, you oughta tell me now what you're feeling about it, 'cause..."

Fuck.

My heart was starting to beat out of control.  My fingers wrapped even tighter around the wires of the fence, I thought they'd bleed.  I didn't know if it was the conversation making Marco nervous, or how I was looking at him.

"'Cause it wasn't an accident for me. I...I meant to kiss you." he started to breathe a little abnormally.  "I feel a little guilty saying this, but...I don't think I've thought of you as just a friend in a real long time..."

Fuck.

He took a deep breath, ignoring my silence and added another punch to my gut.  "You and me are solid...but I want it to mean more than how we've been saying it, y'know?"

 _Fuck_.

My head drooped against the fence.  "I...fuckin' hate this fence..."

"I'm confessing and you're complaining about the goddamn fence!?" he started to panic.

"Well damn it, I wanted to wait 'til we can actually touch each other so I can effectively tell you that I like your stupid ass back, but you ruined it!" I violently yanked on the fence again.

Silence.  I could hardly feel embarrassed about it anymore. Everything's on the table now, I suppose.  That big stupid grin spread across his freckled face as he held his arms behind his back.  Marco Bodt is probably the most adorable dork on the face of this planet, but who was I to say anything? Look how hopeless I am for the guy.

"Did you have a huge confession laid out?" he giggled.

"That fucking giggle..." I murmured, covering my face against my hands against the fence.

"Were you gonna surprise me with a mixtape and a love-letter?" he went on.  "You're so _corny_ , Jean."

" _Shut up_." I groaned, red in the face, because those were on the list of ideas.  "Every other person I've dated asked me out first. I wanted to grow the balls to do it this time."

His eyebrows arched, and I expected another tease on how corny I was, but he just smiled.  "I understand how you are, Jean. It takes a lot for you truly care about someone...I feel lucky enough, don't worry."

I would've quipped about how corny _he_ sounded just now, but I couldn't ignore something about what he just said to me.  "Y'know I think the only other person who gets that is my brother."

The moment I mentioned Julien, the smile on Marco's face disappeared.  Usually, he loved when I talked about him, but this only brought back the strange feeling I had about him earlier.  "You sure you're okay, Marco?"

Almost startled, he looked up at me, then softened his expression.  “Yeah! I guess I just...I really miss you around, y’know...your teasing, your hovering…”

I cracked a smile.  “You’ll be outta here in no time, Freckles.” I frowned at him.  “And I do not hover.”

He started to laugh.  “You’re always lecturing me, tending to my wounds, asking if I ate today - you’re a hovering mother hen.”

“Well if you weren’t so goddamn clumsy and ditzy..!” I huffed, stopping myself once I saw that stupid grin on his face.  I scowled, yanking on the fence, this stupid fence keeping us apart.  “I’ll fuckin’ fight you, Bodt.”

He just laughed, hiding the redness in his cheeks.  God, that laugh.  I was pretty sure my face was red, too, because I could feel it heating up.  I couldn’t bring myself to care too much, though...not even about the fact that there was no more confession to worry about after he's out.  My crush on Marco is as obvious as my face is red, to be honest, but he was so freakin’ dense, I guess it was bound to come out sooner than expected.

As soon as I had him back, I'd give him the smoke session he wanted, and I'll make him mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preps hate him. Nerds hate him. The administrators hate him...but Thomas and his boys love him! And that's worth something, right? :) Things got crazy last week, but we're here! Thanks for sticking around this long, and I hope you'll continue! :D
> 
> ~~~~> freckled-stallion.tumblr.com


	15. I Trusted You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one hurts your feelings like a Kirschstein does.

Marco

 

Why couldn’t I just tell him?

That was the question that haunted me as I lay in my lonely cot, wide awake in the dark.  Instead, I asked him a half-assed, guilt-tripping question, _“If I...if I knew something you’ve been wanting to know, but had to keep it secret...would you hate me?”_

And he doesn’t get it.  Of course he wouldn’t get it.  

_“What kinda question is that?”_

That’s right, Jean.  What the hell kind of question _is_ that?  I sighed, burying my face in my hands, completely disappointed in myself.  Julien is the one Jean has been searching for all this time and I - of all people - found him, and here I am keeping it a secret.  Why, because Julien himself asked me to? Without even telling me why? I should have listened to my instincts and told Jean right away...especially now that I know why.

Julien Kirschstein is an addict.  My keeping it a secret must have everything to do with supporting his habit.  This only made me feel even worse.  I decided to help Rico in exposing the warden and disbanding the Survey Corps.  I’m a horrible liar with a guilty conscience, so working as a double agent as Julien’s trusted friend and Rico’s eyes and ears was going to be difficult...but I had to remind myself that I was only loyal to Jean.

I had to tell him.

The next morning, I was shaken awake by the orderlies outside my door. My eyes popped open, only able to make out their figures from the open door behind them.

"You're moving, Bodt."

"Wh-What?" I mumbled, still trying to wake up. They dragged me out of bed and toward the door.

There was nothing in my room worth packing, so they had me by both arms and dragged me out, slamming the door behind them. I looked up at the large clock on the wall, and it was five in the morning. I wouldn't have been able to tell, anyway. The chaotic ambience of the psyche ward was non-stop. I'd bet money that I was one of the only ones who actually slept at night. My grogginess lifted somewhat when I saw that I was being escorted into the rehabilitation ward. There was a door held open, and two orderlies standing by it. I was turned over to their custody and let in my room.

"This is your new unit. Breakfast is in sixty minutes." The orderly said just before shutting the door.

The rehabilitation ward was _nothing_ like the psyche ward. I had a window with a decent view, a reasonably comfortable bed, and there weren't orderlies at every other door. My door opened, and Julien Kirschstein met me with that pure smile of his.

"So? How d'you like your new room?" He held his arms out.

I was still at a loss. He was only trying to be nice, but I couldn't help but feel angry at him for what he's been doing. I tried to pull it together. "I mean...I just can't believe you pulled this off..."

"Yeah. I got Moblit a room down the hall. Awesome, right?" He grinned, examining my new space. He seemed to notice my edginess, and came to sit next to me on my bed. "Don't worry, dude, I always take care of things. It took a lotta hard work, but I managed to get in good with the higher ups here."

 _'By dealing them coke?!'_ I screamed internally. I unclenched my fists before he could see them and tried to keep a level tone. "Do your parents know you're here?"

He seemed a little thrown by the question, but answered nonetheless. "Yeah. My sentence will be reduced if I do some time here. Why?"

He is completely jeopardizing _everything_ by doing this. I glanced away to answer. "Just wondering. I assumed they never told Jean where you were because they didn't really know..."

He arched an eyebrow. "You give them way too much credit." He stood up, heading toward the door.  "Wanna go to breakfast? When's Jean coming to meet you again?"

"Same time as yesterday. Thinking of coming along this time?" I followed him.

"This is getting old, Bodt."

* * *

 

As the days went by, I began to notice the difference in Julien when he's high and when he's sober. However, it didn't mean much of anything if I didn't have anything to prove to Rico...which is why she called me into her office one afternoon.

"Can you believe this bastard?" She began as soon as the door closed. I glanced around, not knowing what to say. She hands her tablet to me. "The warden wants to open a new location in Trost. As if one wasn't enough of a hellhole!"

"He's starting a franchise..?" My eyebrows furrowed. "Based on what?"

"He won't get away with this. I’ve been living off of top ramen since I hired a private investigator to help me on the warden’s tail.” she said bitterly.  “It’s going to pay off, though. He contacted the authorities and knows just how to bust him.”

“That’s good I guess…” I finally spoke, not wanting to push her closer to the edge by sitting there silently.  She glanced at the door, reminding herself that it was locked, then back to me.

“This is where you come in.”

“M-Me? Don’t I already have a job to do?” I held my hands up, immediately becoming nervous.

“Well, you've been shit at it. Do you even know how Kirschstein has been getting his drugs yet?” she placed a hand at her hip.

“No idea.” I shrugged, glancing off.   _‘Do I even wanna know?’_

“I know. That’s why the PI did some digging on the kid, too. I need you to pull through this time, Bodt. If you’re discharged before doing this right, we may never get a chance like this again.” she said.  My eyes widened at how she so casually threw out there that I was going to be discharged soon.

“They’re letting me go?”

“Your school wants you back. Claims there was a mix up with the paperwork or something.” she flipped through her clipboard, completely disinterested in anything other than busting the warden.

 _‘What I bullshit excuse...’_ I rolled my eyes.  I knew that this was all thanks to Jean.

“Kirschstein  meets with his supplier every two weeks. Tonight, he’ll meet with them again before dinner. Catch him before he heads to the warden’s office.” she handed me a small plastic bag with black wiring inside.  “Here, wear this under your clothes.”

My eyes widened.  “I-Is this a wire..!?”

“We need proof of what they’re doing. Don’t be scared.” she said calmly.

“I’m not, okay!? It’s just..!” I began, realizing there was no point in denying how scared I clearly was.  I just sighed and shook my head.  “If I do this, Julz will come out fine, right?”

Her hesitance to answer made me nervous.  “It all depends on him...if you really want to help him, convince him to cooperate with us.”

Yeah, right.  This felt like a scene from Law and Order.  Julz was the stubborn victim and I’m the bystander who happens to know too much. This all made me incredibly nervous, not because I was going to expose the warden, but because I have no idea what will happen to Julz.

“Can I ask a question, Rico?” I stared down at the floor as I stood up to leave.

“What?” she sighed, heading back to her desk.

“I’m sure your reasons for wanting to shut this place down are morally just and all,” I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that she could care less.  “But is the reason why you’re so passionate about it...because of something the warden did to you..?”

She just sat there at her desk, pondering.  Has it gotten to the point where she hates him so much, she can’t even remember why anymore.  “The things I’ve seen here, what I’ve seen him do and get away with, it starts to eat at you. I just want to sleep well at night.”

When she said that, she had her hands folded on her desk, hanging her head low.  She wanted to seem composed, but my question seemed to remind her of how exhausted she was.   

"Go ahead and keep tailing Kirschstein. With how much he trusts you now, he just might spill." She said.

"What makes you say that?" I inquired.

"He went as far as getting you out of psyche, right? He really likes you." She simply said. Yeah, he does, and that's what makes this so hard. He may have an awful addiction clouding his judgement, but for the most part Julien was a genuine person with no ill intent. Either way things go, he might end up hating me.

* * *

 

"Hey Marco, you gotta girlfriend?”

“Wh-What?”

I jerked my head toward Moblit, who was calmly laying on the grass next to Nanaba, awaiting my answer.  Nanaba snickered, and Moblit shrugged and looked away.

“Just asking for a friend.”

“What friend?” I turned my head.

“Hey, don’t look..!” Moblit tried to stop me, but I already saw a blushing girl scurry out of my line of sight.

“Marco could be a real lady-killer if he wanted to.” Moblit continued.

“Not even if I wanted to…” I mumbled, glancing away.  Unfortunately, he heard that.

“What’s that mean!?”

“I’d really rather not get into it.” I chuckled nervously.

“Told you he’s gay.” Nanaba shrugged as I grew a little red around the cheeks.

“You’re right. He’s _too_ good-looking.” Moblit hummed with a nod.

“Okay, that has nothing to do with anything! Seriously…” I grumbled.

“It’s alright, Bodt, I’m wrong about these kinda things all the time. I still don’t know whether Nanaba is a boy or girl sometimes.” Moblit pointed to Nanaba, who shot him a glare.  I smirked, because while I myself was convinced she’s a girl, I didn’t know for sure, either.  

“What about you, huh? You got yourself a girlfriend while you’re over here just assuming people’s orientation and gender identity?” Nanaba punched him in the arm.

He rolled over, rubbing his arm from the pain.  “Miss Zoe Hanji’s the only one for me..!”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal.” Nanaba scoffed.

I noticed the orderlies starting to gather up all the psyche ward patients wandering outside, which meant dinner was starting soon.  Typically, they left the rehab patients alone because they were less of a hassle to handle, and would usually come in to eat.  Moblit and Nanaba both stood up to leave.

“Comin’ to eat?”

I glanced off, shaking my head.  “I’m...gonna wait for Jean.”

“He usually meets you earlier than this. I thought he wasn’t comin’ today.” Moblit pointed out.

“He said he’ll be a little late today. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” I stood up, eager to leave.

“Atleast he tells him when he’s coming to visit…” Nanaba said bitterly, heading inside the building.  Moblit glanced at me, then back at her, ultimately trailing her inside.

The truth of the matter was that Jean probably did come around already, but who knows how long the two of us would be out there together? I didn’t want to lose the chance of catching Julien in the act, nor did I want Jean to find out this way.  Once I’m free of this place, I’ll tell him myself.  I know both of them will be angry at me, but hopefully less angry than they would be if they surprised eachother here and now.  I took a deep breath and stayed outside, completely avoiding the orderlies and trying to stay in a spot where Julien wouldn’t see me once he came out.

Finally, a blonde boy came shuffling out of the building; and wasn't even fitted with an ankle bracelet! There was no doubt practically each orderly knew Julien by face, and was ordered by the warden not to mess with him.  I made sure to keep my distance, if he knew I was here now, this would be pointless. I stopped a moment and lifted my shirt to turn the wire on. Maybe in the long run, this would turn into a good thing...yeah, that's what I had to tell myself.

Surprisingly, Sawney wasn't in his usual spot, he must have been inside for dinner. Julien took one last glance behind him, and I hid behind a tree for the moment, looking over my shoulder for any orderlies nearby.  He slipped through the bushes, and that was as far as I could tail him.  I stood close to the bushes, listening in and hoping the wire was picking it all up.

"What've you got for me, Julz?" A girl's voice said.

“Two grand." Julien said, his voice low.  “You think you can gimme a kilo?”

“A kilo for two grand? Fuck off.” the girl scoffed.  I peeked through the bushes, trying to be as quiet as possible, and saw that it was Ymir! I know she and her clique are known for drugs at the Garrison but has she seriously expanded this outside of school? Has she seriously been dealing stuff harder than marijuana? For some reason, I turned the microphone off.  I don't know why, but I didn't want the wire to pick up anything about this conversation.  I might be defeating the entire purpose of this operation, but I was more concerned about exposing the warden.  

“Hey, a kilo would last us a while. It’d save you the trouble of comin’ out here, right?” Julz hummed.

“You can’t haggle with me, pretty boy. I can give you a couple eight-balls for whatcha got.” she said.

“Two grand for a couple eight balls, are you shitting me?” Julien snorted.  “Four eight balls and I’ll give you a grand.”

“Three.”

“Deal.”

I didn't have the slightest clue as to how much an eight-ball compared to a kilo was, but I knew Julien wasn’t interested in anything small.  I peered closer, seeing Ymir pass Julien the white plastic bags through the holes of the fence.  Since he wasn't wearing an ankle bracelet, he was able to get close and retrieve the drugs.  Ymir just watched as Julien stuffed the bags in his pants.

"Julz...you look like shit, y'know." She said, placing her hands in her pockets. Ymir tried to play it off like she didn't care, but given his previous involvement with the Burnouts, Ymir probably grew a soft spot for him. I haven't known him very long, but I have to admit, he looks much livelier in his pictures than right now.

"I bet." He chuckled, placing the bag in his pants. "Look, I just...once I'm outta here, I'll clean up. How's Annie?"

Ymir sneered at his comment about cleaning up, a look of disbelief, then answered about Annie. "Doesn't give a rat's ass about you, that's for sure."

Julien just laughed. "When did she ever, right?"

"When you had your shit together." Ymir scoffed. "Look, you got your coke. It's all you care about. No need to bullshit me with small talk."

"That ain't how it is, Ymir." Julien said firmly.

"Then prove it." Ymir grabbed the fence. I saw Julien take something else from her, but couldn't make out what. "I gotta cousin who lives on the outskirts of town. Whenever you get outta here, go to her and tell her I sent you. Get cleaned up."

"What's in it for you?" He asked hesitantly.

"You're you." She shrugged. I didn't believe her at first, to be honest.  Then again, even though no one at the Garrison did anything for free, the fact that it was Julien made enough sense to me. "You're trustworthy, reliable, and always had my back. Don't make me regret it, pretty boy."

"Is this advice or a favor..?" He put the paper in his pocket.

"I ain't gonna make you do anything...but seeing this destroy you ain't something I look forward to, either, y'know?" She shrugged.  With that, Ymir and her two men disappeared into the darkness, leaving Julien to think about what was just said to him.  I slid my hand back into my shirt, turning the wire back on.  He seemed to be pretty lost in thought, but I didn't want to give him too much time, I had to talk a little sense into him myself.  He just sighed with his head hung low, then turned around to head for the warden's office. However, he stopped dead in his tracks once he saw me standing there.

"Marco..." He turned pale. I remained silent. "What're you doing out here?"

"Julz..." I began, and that was his indication that I saw and heard everything. He started shaking his head.

"Listen man, you cannot tell _anyone_ about what you just saw. Moblit and Nanaba can't know, _no one_ can know...!"

"Is this why you've been avoiding Jean?" I asked. He paused, trying to regain his composure and clutching at the drugs in his clothes. He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring me.  "You know exactly how bad you are. You just can't face your problem...or even your brother."

"Don't fuckin' talk to me like you know what this is like!" He snapped.

"Fine, addiction is an entirely different world, but I do know what it's like to feel outta control." I told him. He just stared at me, realizing why I was here in the first place. Those blue eyes averted my gaze, and he walked past me and into the building.

"I can't stick around and talk. Sorry." he shoved past me.  My stomach sank with fear. I was running out of time.

"J-Julz..!" I chased after him. He wasn't slowing down, and we both knew we had to quiet down once inside. "Please think about this. You can still quit all this while you still can..!"

"I never wanted this. I never meant for it to get this far, y'know..." He said softly. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about, but I nodded.

"No one ever does."

"Kenny and I tried it once. He said he wanted to try it...just once..." He sighed, passing a hand through his blonde hair. "Once turned into 'one more' for me atleast a dozen times..."

"Julz..." I reached out, not knowing if I should touch him or not.

"I'm always careful. I never fuck up! But that night when they expelled me...I was too fuckin high to realize Kenny set me up...I couldn’t even believe he did it...damn it…” he dug his fingers into his face.

I took his hands from his face, and those sad blue eyes looked into mine.  Initially, I felt obligated to help him because he’s Jean’s brother, but now, Julien is my friend, and he desperately needs help.  Before I could think of anything comforting to say, we were interrupted by the warden storming out of his room.

“Kirschstein!”

When he saw me standing with Julz, he became tense.  He cleared his throat, stepping back inside his office, and Julien stepped forward, knowing he had to go in.  I took his arm, begging him one last time not to go in.  He glanced at the warden, then back at me, then took his arm to leave.

“Are your plans with Kirschstein so important you’re keeping him from his appointment with me?” Mr. Woerman arched an eyebrow.

“Appointment. Sure.” I scoffed, turning to leave.  As soon as I turned my back, I heard him come up behind me.

“Backsass isn’t tolerated at this facility, boy!”

He grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt, and the wire I was wearing underneath shifted from the sudden movement.  It dangled from under my shirt, completely visible to all three of us.  My stomach dropped once I saw the shocked look on Julien’s face.

“What the hell is this!?” Mr. Woerman yanked the wire off of me, grabbing the back of my neck.  I flinched from the grip he had on me.

“Let go of me..!”

“What’re you doing with one of these? Who put you up to this, you little son of a bitch!?” he shook me, demanding answers.  I just closed my eyes, trying to keep cool.  He was triggering me, and I didn’t want to make this situation any worse.  My eyes kept darting to the stapler sitting on his desk.

Julien tried to step in.  “Kitts, what’re you doing? J-Just forget about him! I got it, so let’s just--”

“Forget him? This ain’t gonna fly this time, Kirschstein. He knows _everything_!” he grunted, shoving Julien hard across the room.

This was all too much.  My heart was beating so fast, faster than when I was actually going through with this bullshit.  This place, Julien’s situation, and finally this ridiculous altercation, there was no stopping my instinct to grab the stapler from the desk, nor was there any control or recollection of what happened afterward.

 

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the floor in handcuffs, and the warden’s office was a complete mess.  I saw policemen standing in the room.  I glanced down, seeing blood on my clothes.  I started to hyperventilate, because I assumed the absolute worst.

“I...I killed ‘im, didn’t I..?”

“Marco…” I heard Rico’s voice.  I looked up, a little surprised to see her concerned expression.  She knelt down in front of me, studying me before she explained.  “The investigator and I were listening to the wire you were wearing in my office. We heard everything. We managed to get here and subdue you before you could do any serious damage.”

_‘Serious damage!? There’s blood all over me!’_

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.  I wasn’t sure if I was still shaken up or if I was too ashamed to even speak.  I suddenly snapped out of my thoughts and jerked my head around, looking for Julien.  He looked as if he hadn’t moved from where the warden pushed him.  He was also in handcuffs, sitting on the floor with his head low.  I wanted to say something, anything to him, but two police officers took me by the arms and brought me to my feet.

“We’ll take you to your room for now.”

“W-Wait, Julz..!” I finally spoke.  He lifted his head, pale face and near dead eyes staring straight at me.

"You were planning to ruin everything from the very start. Fuck, what was I thinking, reaching out to you?" he sighed, shaking his head.

"You don't get it, Julz..." I tried to explain, still being dragged away.

“I trusted you…” he muttered, turning his head away from me.  The pang in my chest nearly brought tears to my eyes.  The officers dragged me out of the office, and into my room.  They uncuffed me, and even went so far as to sit me down on my bed.  When they finally left and shut the door, I just let my weight all on one side, crashing down on the bed.  This was no different than the day I scared my ex-boyfriend’s father with my temper...no, this is worse.  I actually hurt someone.  The bedroom door opened, and footsteps made their way near my bed.  I didn’t bother moving, I knew it was Rico.

“Marco, I’m so sorry.” she began.  I didn’t say anything.  “I put you in a triggering situation and although you pulled through and exposed them, you could’ve ended up a lot worse...I was thoughtless.”

I just faced the wall, not having the strength to move or even speak.  What will apologizing to me do now? She sighed.

“The warden is alright, by the way. You’re not in any trouble for defending yourself. He’s got a broken nose and will need a few stitches, but those will heal just fine while he’s behind bars. You did a good thing.”

Well, I didn’t kill him.

“As for Kirschstein,” she began again.  “This isn’t his first offense. He’s in a lot of trouble...but because of what you’ve done today, I’ll do my best to help him.”

I tried to be optimistic about this, but from the way things have gone recently, I didn’t have much to go on.

* * *

 

The next day, I went through the motions of waking up and getting ready for the day.  I ate breakfast, and I just sat in the lounge all day.  Today was my very last day at the Survey Corps.  I didn’t know what to expect, but I surely expected to see some of my friends at some point of the day.  I figured Julien was still with law enforcement, but I found it strange that Nanaba and Moblit also weren’t anywhere to be found.  At this very moment, Rico was meeting with Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman and reviewing my case.  As far as I’m concerned, after my black out yesterday, there was no way the authorities would let me around normal children.  All Jean’s hard work will be for nothing.

Jean.

I went up to Sawney for the last time.  The gentle giant looked up at me, and probably didn’t have the slightest idea what would happen to him once it's decided what will happen to this establishment.

“Marco...you’re still here.” he said.

“Yeah, haven’t left yet.” I responded.

“I thought you left with Julz too…” he poked at the dirt with a stick.  I paused, furrowing my eyebrows.  He continued.  “He told me not to tell nobody, but I thought you would know…”

I glanced over my shoulder for any listening ears, then knelt down in front of him.  “What’re you saying, Sawney? What happened?”

“Julz left through here. Nanaba and Moblit went too. I wanna stay in case they come back, but I don’t think they will…” he shook his head.  I stumbled back, both my hands making their way to my head.  The three of them escaped!?  Sawney noticed my shock, and his breathing became heavy.  “Is that a bad thing? Did we do a bad thing..?”

“N-No, no, Sawney. You didn’t do anything bad.” I shook my head, trying to keep him calm.

“Sawney, hey! Where is he!? Hey!”

It was Jean, and he wasn't making any kind of effort to be subtle or quiet.  He sounded angry.  My chest tightened, both from the sudden news and from Jean showing up just now.  I’m nowhere near prepared to tell him what I know, but I have to find my nerve quickly.  This is a matter of Julien’s safety at this point.  I went through the bushes, greeted by a death glare.  I mean, I deserve it, but I haven’t told him anything, yet…

“Jean,” I began, wanting to address Julien’s issue first.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me my brother has been here all this time?” he growled.  My stomach jumped at the question.  My silence enhanced the hurt in his eyes, which in turn made me feel ten times worse about my past decisions.

“How did you find out?” I asked.  He twisted his face at me in complete and utter disdain.  Alright, maybe that was a bad time to ask that.

“I checked in on how the admins were doing about your release and I see ‘em rushing out to come here about an incident that happened last night! You, Kitts Woerman, _Julien Kirschstein!?_ ” he said.  I nodded, because Rico told me this would happen, but I had no idea Jean would find out.  “How I found out ain’t important! You met him, became friends with him all this time, and kept quiet!”

“I know, I should’ve been honest with you--” I tried to begin again, but he wasn’t having it.

“Did you even bother to tell him that we know eachother? I bet you kept this from both of us on purpose, didn’t you!?” he grabbed the fence, causing me to flinch again.  “You know how important he is to me,and you didn’t want that to get in the way of...whatever you wanted with me, is that it? I can’t believe you of all people would be so selfish!”

My jaw dropped at that ridiculous accusation.  “What?”

“Just forget it!” he barked.  “See you at school, Bodt. You’re fucking welcome.”

I could only watch as he stormed off.  It took everything in me not to take another step forward; unless I wanted 900 volts of electricity running through me, I’d stay put.  It isn’t like he’ll listen to anything I say now, anyway.  The same pain in my chest Julien delivered last night surfaced once again, only ten times worse now that Jean had his say and left me with a cold goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so...extra D: I'm more excited about the next one, tbh. Thanks for reading!


	16. Stink Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is smelly

Jean

Julien is out there somewhere, and I honestly don't know how to feel about it. All the questions I have about this situation makes my head hurt, so I decide to just be angry about it; it's easier.  I had half a mind to blame the admins for having my brother admitted to that place, but I'm not sure they even had much to do with it.  They were just as surprised to hear of him being there as I was.  I tried to think of some reason, any explanation as to why we’ve been so close to eachother for so long with no idea.  I probably should have been paying attention to when my upcoming Chemistry quiz was going to be, but...Julien would have found a way to see me again, right?

"Alright, any questions?" Miss Hanji turned back to a class full of half asleep children. "Oh--! Has anyone seen Christa? Well, doesn't make much sense to call her that anymore now, does it?"

That's right, I did have this class with Historia. I haven't seen her around at all lately. No Preps were around - thank god - to offer an explanation.

"Hm, well, if she turns up, please tell her I need to see her. You're dismissed."

I stood up, throwing my backpack over my shoulder and headed outside, eager to throw myself onto my bed. Huh, atleast that's where I like to think I was going. As soon as I left the classroom and to my locker, I was pelted with a barrage of thick heavy duty rubber bands. I dropped my books as some hit me in the face, the side of my head, my body - nowhere was safe. Kids surrounding the halls passed by and laughed as none other than the Prep faction closed in on me. Marlowe Freudenburg shoved me against my locker.

"This is all _your_ fault, Kirschstein, and you'll pay for it!"

"I agree there's a shit ton wrong with you, dude, but it ain't got much to do with me." I scoffed, ignoring the stinging feeling on my exposed skin. I didn't have a clue what he was on about, and we both knew it. He slammed me against the locker, explaining.

"Shit has hit the fan because of your stunt, Kirschstein. Historia is nowhere to be found and now Hitch has no idea where to begin leading this group!"

"Aw, you mad Historia didn't pick you to be her second-in-command?" I kept pushing.

"That's got nothing to do with anything." He took the bait.

"Honestly, how could she pick _her_ over you? After everything you've done, it's expected, right?"

"My loyalty to her and this faction is unconditional." He kept denying it.

"Kinda hard to trust someone like you. You do wanna be a TA, after all."

He gritted his teeth, unable to come up with a response. Instead, he cocked his fist, about to punch my face in.

Where are the TAs?

Suddenly, a stink bomb broke, spreading nauseous fumes throughout the hallway. The preps scattered, and although Marlowe wanted to stay and fight, he couldn't stomach the stench for long. Hell, I couldn't, either.

"Stay outta my sight if you know what's good for you, Horseface!" He coughed, scurrying away.

Everything stings, and now I stink. This is too much to go through before lunchtime. Seriously, where the hell were those TAs?

I thought I would make it out unscathed, but the back of my shirt was grabbed yet again. I turned, seeing an angry Eren Jaeger looking like he wanted to rip my face off. Shit.  The Nerds only saved me from the Preps to kill me themselves.

"Where's the key, Horseface?!"

"Jeez, Jaeger, are you serious right now?" I stumbled away from him, about to gag from the smell. "I didn't take the key from you in the first place, and I don't have a fucking clue where it is, alright?!"

"Wrong answer!" He snarled, coming closer.

"Eren!" I heard Armin call, causing Eren to stop right in his tracks.  "TAs are on their way back. We'll worry about this later."

Eren, completely pacified, fell back, letting me escape the pungent hallway.

I wanted to throw up, both from the stench and from how much crap I'm in right now.

When I got back to the dorm, I was surprised and angry to see my belongings sitting outside the door. My clothes, shoes, my expensive camera and laptop all sitting outside waiting to be stolen. The door was wide open, and one of my suitcases was chucked outside. My guard shot up as I entered the room, thinking I was being robbed. However, before I could process what was really happening, a textbook at lightning speed nearly caved my head in. It dented the wall just before slamming into the wooden floor. I jerked my head up at my roommate glaring back at me as he had another one of my bags in his hand.

"Connie, what the hell is this?!"

"That's my line! What the hell did you _do?!_ " he exclaimed, extending his hand.  I followed his hand and realized what he was angry about.  Our entire room was trashed.  The drawers were pulled out, our clothes were thrown out of the closets and scattered onto the floor, our belongings were snatched from under the beds, my desk was ravaged, as if someone was looking for something.

“TAs just came storming in here and raiding the room--it was like a fuckin' episode of cops or some shit!"

Well, that explains where they were when I was about to be ripped apart by two different cliques. I slowly made my way toward my bed, seeing my laptop laying on my stripped bed, completely hacked into. It was the admins looking for the copies of the sex tape.

"I talked to the admins about separating us for months, and finally they decided to take me up on it. So you're outta here!" He threw my bag at me. I caught it, stumbling back, still in shock of being thrown out like this.

"Outta here? You're throwing me out, bald pipsqueak!?" 

"Yeah! I gotta train and rest in peace and you're always up to something fishy! I don't need that messin' with me or my regimen!" he folded his arms.

"All you fuckin' do in here is eat, sleep and jack off to internet porn when Sasha ain't around! I'm hardly ever in here!" I argued.

His face turned beet red, and he finally threw his hands in the air.  "Just get the fuck out, man!"

"No one could've given me a memo or somethin'? Just 'cause you win a few trophies for this shithole it doesn't give you the right to touch my shit!" I grunted.

"No one wants your second-rate shit, Horseface. What'd you do to piss off the admins?!"

There was no way in hell I could give Connie a hint of what’s been happening lately.  I glanced off, seeing his phone in his hand and immediately assumed he was texting Sasha.

"Well...I dunno why you think this is about me! _You're_ the one with the dope-slangin' girlfriend!"

"Keep your fuckin' voice down!" He flinched, glancing at the open door behind me. "What're you even talking about?"

"TAs raid our room and you're sneakin' around with a stoner? How can we be so sure she didn't leave anything in here? What if they come back with dogs?!" I shut the door, trying my hardest to sell this lie. Of course, he bought it, glancing back at his phone before scrambling out of his bed.

"Whatever. Ugh, you smell like shit." He pushed past me and out of the door, probably on his way to see Sasha now. "You better be fuckin' cleared outta here by the time I get back!"

He stormed out, leaving me even more pissed off than I've been all day. I ran a hand through my hair, prepping myself to gather all my things and pack them as best I could in my suitcases. I had no idea where y new room was, but I was about to find out from the admins, right after I give them an earful, that is.

"You fucking raided my _room_?" I burst into their office. Principal Smith was at his desk, unfazed at me as Vice Principal Ackerman sat on the desk with the same expression.

"It's not your room."

"And how the hell was I s'posed to know _that_ before now?" I shot back.

"We held up our end of the bargain, Kirschstein. We did our part - and _then_ some. You and Bodt will be sharing a new room on the second floor." Mr. Smith said. My expression softened a little at this news. "It's time for you to do the same."

"Tomorrow."

"We're not gonna be strung along by some rich shitpot like you..." Mr. Ackerman growled.

"It ain't like you're gonna get it any other way, right? Look, a lot of chaos is happening and you guys haven't been any fucking help." I said, unable to believe I was at such a low point in school where I actually wouldn't _mind_ intervention from administration.

Mr. Ackerman wrinkled his nose, looking me up and down. "This chaos you're bitching about got anything to do with making you smell like sewer?"

"YES."

"Alright, fine, you have one more day. Let's just get this over with, Kirschstein." Erwin held his hand over his nose, wanting me to leave. I rolled my eyes and headed out the door.

It was midday, and although lunch seemed a lot less disgusting than usual, I wasn’t hungry.  I decided to head down to the art room to see Mike.  I didn’t plan on talking to him about it or anything, just being in the art room sort of calms me down a little.  Maybe channeling my frustration into creative energy would do me some good until I figure out what to do.  However, when I walked through the door into the empty classroom, I was caught off guard by how erratic Mike was being.  He was shuffling around the room, as if he was about to rush out.

“Mike…” I called, watching as he threw some things across the floor from his closet.  

"Jeez, what's that smell?"

I rolled my eyes. “Stink bomb. What’re you doing?”

In his hurry, he slammed the closet shut and turned to me.  “When you visited your friend, was there a blonde skinny kid asking about me?”

My eyes widened a bit.  The girl who appeared to me the first day I went to see Marco.  Nanaba was her name.  I gave a slight shrug.  “Yeah...I meant to tell you about it, but I forgot…”

He just continued rummaging through his classroom.  “Sorry, Jean, class is cancelled for today.”

“What, she’s not at the Survey Corps anymore?” I inquired.

“She ran off somewhere with your brother and another kid.” he said.  I jerked my head back in his direction, surprised he knew about this, too.  Then again, he was good friends with the admins.  “She told me about a Julien kid who helped her out when she was first admitted. She didn’t give a last name so I didn’t realize he was related to you until recently. Sorry.”

“Did the admins tell you?” I asked.

“The freckled kid told me. He told me everything I need to know.” he slammed his briefcase shut.  I frowned a bit at the mention of Marco.  I guess he’s back on campus already.  After our fight yesterday, I tried my best to just block out any and all thoughts of him.  Was it working? No, but I can keep trying, can’t I? Mike continued.  “I agree, It’s convenient to be mad at him.”

I hopped on the desk, glancing at Mike with reddening cheeks.  “I...didn’t say anything…”

As if I had to.  Mike rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys from the drawer.  “Maybe that brother of yours isn’t so keen on seeing you again, Jean.”

“What’d you say?” I snapped, feeling a swelling in my chest.

“Quit being so damn sensitive and think for once. Why hasn’t he mentioned to his friends that he even has a brother? As loyal as you and your friend are to eachother, you don’t really think he would keep that kind of secret from you on purpose, do you?”

The room was quiet, and it was starting to get to me.  My face became hot, and I jumped off of the desk and turned away from him.  He was right.  None of this was about Marco, or anything else I wanted to put the blame on.  Maybe Julien really didn’t want us to meet again...

“I’ll see you around, Jean.” Mike patted my shoulder. He grunted, wiping the same hand on his pants. "Take a hot shower, alright?" Before he headed out the door, he turned the lights off, leaving me in the dark classroom. Something told me that I wouldn't be seeing him around anymore after this...not anytime soon.

Marco and I are roommates now, so that means his old room is vacant, right..? I became extremely anxious, because if they moved all of Marco's things, what if they came across it..?

I hid the copies of the sex tape under Marco's mattress.

Maybe not the best place, but judging from how my room looked, it's obviously not the first place they'd look for it. I pulled out a bobby pin, about to pick the lock, but something told me to turn the knob instead. When I entered, I expected Marco's scent to hit me, but all I got was cleaning products and...someone else.

"Oh! Jeany-boy, what a pleasant surprise."

Kenny Ackerman was laying on what used to be Marco's bed, giving me that despicable smirk. "Not who you expected, huh?"

What the fuck are you doing in his room?" I growled.

" _My_ room." He corrected me. My eyes narrowed, I wanted to kill him. "I could ask you the same thing. Come here to reminisce? That's cute in an extremely pitiful way I guess..."

"Now that I got 'im back, you're gonna regret everything you did." I snarled. He sat up, staring at me with that stupid smug smile.

"Yeah, I heard Freckled Jesus was reinstated! How'd you pull that off?"

"Just another one of his miracles, I guess." I scoffed.

"You're funny." Kenny stood to his feet. I kept my mouth shut, trying not to glance at the mattress where I hid the USB. "Know what other funny thing I heard? Sweet ol' Julz was in _rehab_ this whole time!"

"Don't." I said softly, but as always, Kenny kept pushing.

"But man, Cocaine's a hell of a drug, ain't it? That shit'll have you using right where you're s'posed to be getting clean! No fucks given, right?" He started cackling.

“You dunno what you’re fucking talking about!" My voice rose, becoming shaky with each step I took toward him.

"Oh, I don’t? Y'know, Jeany, I told Julz to try coke with me _one time!_ just once. No one told that dipshit to go and get addicted to the stuff!" That was it. Upon hearing Kenny was the one to trigger the addiction that's ruining my brother's life, I lost all control and pounced on him.

"You son of a bitch!"

I planned to land on top of him and give him the beat down he deserved, but he spun us around before hitting the mattress, trying to get on top of me. I was so angry, hurt, and tired, I was doing more wrestling than thinking.  He managed to shove me off, and kick me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me.  I staggered off the bed and onto the floor.  He hopped off the bed and I knew I should react somehow, but I was still recovering on the floor, clutching my chest.  He yanked me off the floor, slugging me in the stomach.  I jerked forward, giving him the opportunity to lock me in a chokehold.

"You think that lame ass tough-guy bullshit is gonna scare me, Jeany?" He growled in my ear, tightening the chokehold. I clawed at his arms, struggling to breathe. "I taught you and your shitty brother everything you know, just remember that, you rotten pissant."

I coughed, slamming a fist on his arms, desperately trying to break the hold. He finally let me go, throwing me onto the floor.

"Jesus, who's asshole did you crawl out of?" He fanned his nose.

I just sat on the floor, my hand to my throat and trying to catch my breath. I wish I could atleast have some sort of comeback, but my pride was completely shot.  It was extremely easy to underestimate Kenny.  He doesn’t really let himself get caught up in physical altercations, so not many know what he’s capable of.  I learned firsthand, though, that he indeed taught Julz and I everything, and he made sure we wouldn’t surpass him.

"Hey! What's goin' on in here? This is a single room, Kirschstein, visiting hours are over at eight o clock!" TA Auruo came in. I glared up at Kenny as Auruo snatched me off the floor by the scruff of my shirt, vowing to see him to go down for this.

"Alright, alright, I can walk on my own!" I shoved off of him. "I'm switching rooms and I gotta get my stuff outta my old one. Can I do that or d'you not have anything better to do tonight?"

He sneered. "Don’t get smart, Haircut!”

“In this school? Don’t bet on it.” I grumbled, still trying to calm myself down.  I don’t know why my only notable coping mechanism is talking shit and making my situations worse, but I just can’t help it.

Every day at the Garrison was shit, but today in particular was just awful. Atleast before all of this, I would live my life here on the hope that I would see my brother again, but now I'm living the same shitty life and realize he isn't interested in seeing me at all. I had allies, but who could I really trust?

Only one person.

“Jean?”

I looked over, seeing Marco holding a laundry basket, wearing a blue hoodie and black sweats.  This was not how I wanted to meet him again.  He didn’t give a damn about my stupid pride, he rushed to my side, setting the basket down.

“He’s my new roommate. I’ll show ‘im where the room is.” Marco said apprehensively.  My expression softened, because I was just in awe of how tall he was standing in front of the TA who tased him in the basement not too long ago.  I knew he hadn’t forgotten that pain.

“I don’t trust you roaming the halls, twerp. I’ll make sure your things get to your new room.” Auruo pointed a finger at me.

Before I could even retort anything, Marco looked at me, slightly shaking his head.  He picked his basket up, not taking his eyes off me for a minute; he noticed that I was still hurt from the tussle with Kenny.  I knew he wanted to reach out to me, but he started walking ahead, signaling me to follow.  I tried to walk normally, but to do that so soon after an altercation like that left me with a slight limp.  Marco must have thought I didn’t want to be touched - least of all by him - and he would be right, but I was no longer upset at him.  Still...I’m too much of a douche to clarify that now.

We made it up the stairs to the second floor, and all the way down the hall near the emergency exit.  When he opened the door, all his things were sitting on one side of the room.  I was met with his scent, and frowned at the fact that it was the only thing that remained the same since he was last here.  My bed was next to his, both were bare and new.  I didn’t care for sheets on it right now, I just wanted to rest somewhere.

“Jean…” Marco called.  My back was turned, but I could hear him close to me.  He dropped the basket he was carrying and I heard the door shut.  I don’t know what it was, but once the door closed, and it was just the two of us in this quiet room, something in me just shut down.  I hadn’t said a word, but I felt his hands on my back.  I spun around and crashed into him, and he wrapped his arms around me.  We both know I’m crying, but I still try my damnedest not to sound like it.  My head was buried in the crook of his neck, clutching his shirt.

"No matter what, I still should've told you. I'm sorry." He held me tighter. I just shook my head, hoping he would understand that I didn't blame him for anything anymore.

"Let's just forget it, okay?"

He rubbed my back, and another sniffle rippled out of me. "Okay. Forgotten. I'll just assume the crying is about missing me."

"I ain't crying..." I growled in a shaky voice.

"Is this smell making you teary-eyed? Why d'you smell so bad?" He snickered.

"Shut up, it's a long story, okay?!" I groaned into his chest.

He started giggling, holding me tighter. That was his invitation to let everything out, but strangely, hearing him laugh and feeling his arms wrapped around me, I didn't feel the need anymore. I'm still incredibly sad about Julien, but thankfully for now, I have the greatest distraction.

I pulled away, making sure to wipe the tears from my face before looking at him again. He didn't let go, though. His hands were still at my shoulders.

"Since I'm doin' laundry anyway, want me to wash these for you while you take a shower?" He pinched my shirt. That sounded great.

I threw my smelly uniform in his laundry basket and headed into his bathroom. One of the greatest things about Marco and my relationship is that we take care of eachother, especially when the other is down.  I kind of always felt that way about him, but I tried to ignore it at first.  I didn’t want to believe that I shared that kind of connection with someone, especially at the Garrison, but what he’s doing for me right now while I’m so incredibly vulnerable is making me certain enough to believe in it...believe in us.

I put on one of his shirts and boxer shorts, both of which were a little big on me, but were still ridiculously comfortable. They were his. They smelled like him. He didn't know it yet, but he's never getting these back.

I reached in my backpack, pulling out the small bag of weed Sasha gave me not long ago, along with my bowl.  The dorm began to get louder as more boys piled in from classes. I just crashed on Marco's bed, in my usual spot until he came back.  I’d give him the smoke session he wanted.  It was as if nothing changed. Marco came back in, clean clothes and clean sheets in hand.  Once he saw me crushing the nugs of weed into the bowl, he smiled and turned on the ceiling fan, closing the door and locking it.

“I was just waiting on you to get here.” I waved him over.  I decided to take the first hit, because hell, I needed it.  He watched, handing me the toilet paper roll when I was ready to exhale.  I handed him the bowl and lighter, trying to turn my coughing away.

“Still remember how to do it?”

He offered me a half smile, placing the bowl to his mouth and inhaling. The look on his face as he held the smoke in was priceless. He finally exhaled into the roll, coughing slightly. This was going to turn into a hobby of ours and not just a stress reliever, I can feel it.

Half the bag later, the two of us were laying close to eachother under the covers, seeking refuge from the chill of the ceiling fan.

"I...really missed you." He said. In response, I held his hand with both of mine, squeezing his fingers between my own. God, I'm a fucking sap, but I missed him, too. I'm too high to have a single hope of communicating it any other way.

"I really like you, Jean." He propped himself on his elbow, staring at me with those bloodshot eyes. I snickered, trying not to laugh, but the chuckles bubbled out of me anyway. I was so high, and he's making this seem as if it's this new, shocking thing.

"You told me already, I know."

"Nah...I don’t think you really know."

Oh.  That caught me way off guard.  I glanced off, hoping to stop the blush from reddening my face.  He just layed next to me on his side, holding my hand and each of my fingers like something fragile.  He looked so calm, as if saying things like this was normal.

“I just wanted you to know.” he said, staring at his hand on mine, his bangs fell over his heavily lidded eyes.  I could kiss him right now if I wasn’t so busy staring.  “‘Cause y’know, what happened yesterday...wasn’t meant to hurt you. I’d never wanna hurt you.”

“Hey, I know.” I shook my head, not wanting to get on the subject of my brother.  “It’s not your fault, I was bein’ a huge pissbaby.”

He finally looked up at me, snorting at my comment, and seeing his inebriated attempt at masking laughter made me start to laugh, too.  A pause followed; just us laying under the covers, tuning out the dense, faded loudness of the dorm outside.  

“Y’know, he really loves you. So much.” Marco broke the silence.

“I thought we dropped this.” I mumbled.

“If you hear me out on the whole story, then you can decide whether to resent him or not. That sound fair?” he propped himself up on his elbows.  I would fight him on this, but right now, there was no hope of that happening.  I was too drained to even argue.  Maybe if I fell asleep midway, maybe if he’s too high to articulate his story, anything to hear anything else about this...

Turns out, there was so much about my brother I didn't know. Marco told me all about the Survey Corps, the warden, Julien selling and taking drugs, and Ymir being his supplier. It was all so surreal to me. I knew he and Ymir were good friends once upon a time, but they still kept in touch? I know Ymir and I were never the best of friends, but she had to know I've been looking for him, right?

All this time, he's been struggling with his addiction and too ashamed to ask for help. It was no wonder my parents practically disowned him. This was only making me puffy-eyed all over again.

“It isn’t that he didn’t want to see you. He’s just ashamed. He’s afraid of how you might see ‘im.”

"That's just like Julz. He ruins his life to follow me in this hellhole, supported my hobbies when our parents shat on them, and totally embraces the fact that I like other guys - and he's afraid of being accepted by _me?_ " I scoff, a little surprised at how well I've been keeping the tears at bay. "That stupid bastard..."

"Hey, let's save the insults for when you see him again." Marco said.

"Right." I scoffed. "I'm probably gonna get a text from my mom or dad within the next few days sayin' how he's gone missing or something."

"That doesn't mean you give up. Look, they couldn't have gotten far." He faced me. "We'll find him."

“I don’t even know what I’d say…” I said softly.  All I could picture at that moment as I dizzily stared at the ceiling fan was his smiling face.  I wanted to ask Marco how he looks, or even how bad he is, but I was afraid of the answer I would get, or where the conversation would go.  I closed my eyes.  “I’d probably just sock ‘im one good time…”

“That’s understandable. You don’t have to explain how you feel sometimes. Sometimes not saying anything is better.” Marco says.

I decide to do that.  I tell myself that’s what I’m going to do the next time I see him...even if I don’t really want to, how else will I let him know how badly he’s screwed up? It’s only the best I can do and we all know that.

I opened my eyes to the same turning fan, much calmer than I’d been all day.  I turned to Marco, who had the covers pulled up to his button nose, as always.  He seemed to be staring at the sheets.

"That facepaint you got on my bedsheets never came out, Jean..." He grumbled. I chuckled, realizing the black splotches on his cream-colored sheets were from that Halloween night.  I turned on my side, facing him.

"That's good. Permanent reminder of our first kiss."

"Okay..." He rolled his eyes, a smile curling at his lips. "I guess you're right."

"Y'know...I haven't kissed you since then now that I think about it." I scooted closer, our foreheads practically touching. It's been too long.  His big brown eyes flicked from mine to my lips, and he tugged the sheets a little from his face.

"If you wanna kiss me, Jean, just do it." He snickered.

"I'm tryna be romantic here, you shit." I frowned. He laughed, taking my face in his hands and softly kissing me.  My arm wrapped around his waist as I leaned forward, deepening the kiss I’ve been needing all this time.  

Marco and I have definitely come a long way, and we have a long way to go, but I wasn’t worried nearly as much as before.  He wanted “solid” to mean something more than how we’ve been saying it - to mean that he’s got my back, as well as my heart.  I was pretty content with the new meaning...because, well, I like him...maybe enough to love him one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The JeanMarco feels have been strong within me the past few days so it came out in the end... ;-;  
> Also! I like to draw out my characters before writing about them, so if you're curious to see what Julien looks like, I made a little doodle of him here!
> 
> http://freckled-stallion.tumblr.com/image/112736534713
> 
> I always imagine all of Jean's AU siblings being prettier than him for some reason. Thank you guys for sticking around :)


	17. Espionage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco has night terrors, the sex tape hardly poses a threat anymore, and the Preps make their final move.

Marco

I'm freezing. My eyes aren't open, but I swear I feel the harsh grip of the orderlies on my arms. I feel my breathing hitch, and start to become faster. My heart starts to beat quickly, and I'm anxious with the thought of last night with Jean only being a dream. It's time for that morning shower, and at that, I'm shaken awake. The room is dark, and the chill I'm feeling is from the ceiling fan and the covers completely off of me. I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my head.

I'm in my dorm room. Last night was real...and being in the psyche ward again was the dream.

I glance at the clock and and see that it's a quarter to six, the time I was usually woken up to start my day at the survey corps. I tried to steady my breathing, running a hand through my hair.

Just then, I hear Jean grumble slightly, and when I turn to his bed, he's already sitting himself up on his elbow, looking over at me. "What's with you..?"

I don't answer. I slide out of my bed and take the few short steps over to his. He sits up completely, a little more awake once he realizes I'm coming closer. Usually, I'd hate to impose on his space like this, but I'm so shaken up, I end up crawling under his covers and burying myself under them and him.

"Hey..." He almost laughs, his hand frozen in mid-air as I lay my head on his pillow and bury my face in his scent. I could tell he was a little nervous at how sudden this was, and was probably thinking this was some cheesy stunt, but I just needed him close. He shrugged, laying back down and resting his hand on my head, giving lazy strokes through my hair until we both drift back to sleep. The sound of his breathing distracts from the echoes of the psyche ward, his gentle hold on me is more than their harsh grasp. Jean cannot fix the trouble with my mind, but right now, he can help.

When I woke up again, the sun was much clearer as opposed to earlier. The clock read that it was half past eleven, and what happened at five this morning felt like a distant dream.  I heard the bathroom door open, and a gust of hot air hit me.  Jean came out with nothing but a towel on and wet hair, his face turning beet red once he saw me.

“M-Marco..!”

“Don’t look so shocked, I do live here, after all.” I rubbed my eyes as he scrambled for clothes.

“Well you’re never up before noon, so I didn’t think you’d see..!” he shrieked, covering his chest.

“See what? Nipples? I’ve got ‘em too.” I lay back, lifting my shirt.  I watched him at the corner of my eye.

“Nice one, smart ass,” he sneered, throwing a shirt on and putting on deodorant.  “Hey...try to stay as far away from the admins as much as possible, alright?”

“Things are all cleared up with them now that your deal’s up, right?” I shrugged, figuring keeping my distance wouldn’t be much different than before.

“Not exactly…” he cleared his throat nervously.  I looked back at him, waiting for his explanation.  “See, I didn't exactly give 'em what they want..."

I say up in bed, trying to understand what part of this was wrong. "The video of them...you didn't give it back..?"

"They destroyed one copy..!" He held his hand up. My eyes widened at the mention of him making _copies_. "As for the other one...it's on a USB under your mattress..."

"You mean  _Kenny's_  mattress?!" I exclaimed. He flinched, glancing at our door then back at me. I held my head, trying to form a sentence. "Jean..! I don't even..! W-Why?!"

"Look, don't worry, I'll get it back tonight." He told me. "Kenny sleeps like a fuckin' rock, so it won't be hard to sneak in, lift the mattress a little bit and grab the copies to hand over to the admins by tomorrow morning."

"You make it sound so simple." I sighed, finally rolling out of his bed.  "I'm coming with you."

"It'd be too risky if both of us go." he insisted.

"I don't like the idea of you going alone." I slid out of his bed, headed for the bathroom.

"You sayin' you don't trust me, Bodt?" he sneered.

"How are you able to argue so early in the morning?" I groaned, rummaging through my closet for some clothes.  "Just let me tag along before I yank that towel skirt from off you."

At a loss for words, he got as far away from me as possible, trying to hide the blush on his face.  He waited as I went through the motions of getting ready for the day. He doesn't ask me about last night, and I'm glad, because I don't think I have the energy to put it into words right now.  Luckily, it was a Sunday, so we could roam the campus in peace without seeing the admins.

_Later that night..._

When nighttime finally arrived, Jean and I were coming from the cafeteria and headed back to the Boys Dorm.  Usually, Thomas and his boys would be hanging out near the entrance of the dorm, and we figured we could enlist their help on this breaking and entering mission we were up to tonight.  We weren't sure where Thomas or Dazz were, but we did find Franz nearby.  He was near the side of our building...as well as Hannah! The old bully and the nerd were in each other's arms, sucking face like there was no tomorrow.

"Um..." I coughed into my fist. Jean snorted at the fact that i was being so polite about interrupting their make out session. They didn't even notice.

"Hey! Break it up already, jeez!" He clapped, startling them out of their daze. Hannah's eyes widened once she saw me.

"M-Marco! What a surprise to see you..!"

"How are you, Hannah?" I smiled.

"I hope there won't be any tension between us over this..." She hummed nervously.

"I fully understand and accept Armin not wanting to be friends anymore. Don't worry, I won't let that affect our friendship." I shrugged.

"Not him!" Hannah placed her hands on her hips, a little offended. Franz tilted his head with a befuddled expression while Jean rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming. "I've moved on now...I believe it's fair to say that you've had your chance."

I glanced at Jean, who had the biggest smirk on his face, waiting to give her a piece of his mind. "Uh...okay."

Franz scratched his head. "Wait, moved on? From Marco? He and Jean have been a thing since like, ever, Hannah..."

"What?" Hannah jerked her head to her new beau.

"I...probably should've mentioned to you earlier, but I’m--” I nervously began to confess.

“Hella gay. For me in particular.” Jean cut in, his pointless jealousy surfacing once again.  I punched him in the arm, and although he flinched from the pain, he was quite proud of his snide comment.

“This just got awkward.” Franz scratched his head.

“I...I need to study. C-Congratulations, you two..!” Hannah scurried away, unable to look either of us in the eye.  I cringed, feeling her embarrassment, especially once Jean started laughing.

“Well, now that my girl’s run off, what can I do for you two?” Franz inquired.

“We need you and the others to be lookout on the first floor. Use the common room as a cover.” Jean got straight to it.  “We’re gonna sneak into Kenny Ackerman’s room.”

“Nice, what’re you gonna do to him?” Franz eagerly smashed his fist into his other hand.

" _Nothing_. We're all gonna keep our distance from 'im for now, alright?" Jean answered. I glanced over at him, and realized I never asked about the altercation he and Kenny had yesterday. "All I need you guys to do is make sure no one goes near that room. Not even TAs."

"Whatever you say, boss." Franz nodded with a shrug. I could tell from the smirk on his face that he didn't believe us about going into Kenny's room for 'nothing', but as long as he did what we asked, it doesn't matter.  Jean and I hustled inside the dorm, headed back up to our room to kill time.

By two-thirty in the morning, The boys dorm was dead silent. Jean and I exchanged a nod before exiting our room. The halls were dark, so Jean used his cellphone light to guide the way down the stairs to the first floor. We crept through the halls of our former floor, hand in hand. Once we arrived at the door, Jean handed his phone to me.

"Hold the light for me, babe."

 _'Babe...'_ I snorted, a big, dorky grin on my face. "Okay."

He just stared at me for a moment, then rolled his eyes, a little red in the face. "Dweeb..."

I leaned forward, placing my chin on his shoulder, watching as he picked at the lock. His breathing hitched, and I wasn't sure if it was because of me or how he was trying not to make too much noise with the picking.

When he finally unlocked it, I lowered the cellphone to the floor, just so it wouldn't shine in Kenny's face, and we slowly opened the door. We both cringed as it let out a small creak, but that was the least of our problems. When we got a look at the bed, Kenny wasn't in it. We exchanged a look of confusion, and I felt a sudden unsettling in my stomach. We heard shuffling in the bathroom. Jean and I glanced at eachother again, and I quickly motioned for him to get under the bed. He followed my lead and I headed into the closet.

Kenny trudged back into his bed, plugging his phone into the charger on my old nightstand and crashed his head onto the pillow. Watching him try to fall asleep made me feel a certain way. Of course, I hated Kenny Ackerman and had every right, but seeing him in a vulnerable position such as this...he looked so innocent as he slept. It was disturbing to think about how evil this kid really is after seeing him like this.

I was quickly distracted from those thoughts once I saw Jean slowly wiggling out from under the bed. As impatient as ever, he was going to try to reach under the mattress now. I stood helpless in the closet; I dared not make a sound, and it's too dark for him to see me making any sort of signal...as if he'd listen...

Jean carefully slides his hand under the mattress, and my heart starts to beat faster. Surprisingly, Kenny doesn't move. Jean pushes his luck and moves his arm a little more freely, and although Kenny is the heavy sleeper Jean said he was, my concern was if Jean even remembered what part of the mattress he stuck this thing in.

I heard him grunt in frustration, proving my suspicions right. I place my hands on my face, hoping to calm my nervousness down and think of a back up plan in case we're caught. By this time, Jean fully scrambles from out of the bed, and I cringe from the noise it makes, but Kenny simply adjusts himself and continues his light snoring.

Relieved, I let out a sigh, and suddenly, Kenny's snoring stops. He suddenly jerks up, and Jean stumbles back, startled from Kenny's sudden movement. My eyes widen once I realize I'm the one who woke him up...with the slightest noise imaginable. The bright side of it all was that Jean managed to yank the USB from the mattress, however, it flew across the dark floor as he was startled.

Kenny's agitated voice broke the silence we've been keeping. "What the fuck..!?"

Jean seemed to be at a loss; not even a smart ass remark to stall Kenny's next response. I found myself bursting out of the closet and lunging at him. He was about to turn around and catch me, but I grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head on the hardwood headboard. When he flopped back down on the bed, I immediately stepped back. My stomach started somersaulting with fear watching him lay there so still.

"Jesus fuck, Marco..." Jean cursed under his breath.

"Sh-Shit..! Did I kill 'im?!" I gasped, holding my hands to my head.

"Quick, check for a pulse or something!" He nudged me. I hadn't the slightest clue how to check for a damn pulse, but without thinking, I slapped my fingers on his neck, frantically glancing around the room, waiting for something to happen. Jean placed his hand under Kenny's nose, and looked back at me, much less in a panic than before.

"Urgh..." Kenny groaned, his face falling on it's side on the bed. Jean and I breathed out, finally at ease that he was breathing. Jean immediately turned and got down on the floor, his cellphone light guiding him through the room.

"C'mon, help me look for the flash drive."

"But what about him? Is he alright..?" I asked, watching as he lay sprawled out like a rag doll. "Should we leave 'I'm like this?"

"Seems like a way better idea than moving 'im at this point. Might give him a concussion or something."

Still shaking, I slid to the floor, trying my hardest to take my mind off of what I just did and focus on finding the flash drive before he wakes up again.

"I got it. Let's get the hell outta here." Jean took my hand. I took one last look at Kenny Ackerman before being yanked out of the room. We passed the common room and gave Thomas a nod, signaling there was no need for him to stand watch anymore. The two of us headed up the stairs and quickly entered the safety of our bedroom.

"I...coulda killed him..." I held my hand to my head.

"That bastard's gotta head as hard as rock, there was no way." Jean cracked a smile, trying to lighten up the mood a little.  “Let’s just go to bed, give the admins what they want, and forget about all this.”

I just sat down on my bed, holding my scattered pajamas as a reminder to eventually change clothes.  Jean was already stripping down to his undershirt and boxer shorts, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.  He lifted his shirt to scratch his tummy, giving me a look.

“If it’s a show you want, atleast turn the lamp on. I look even better in this light.”

“Please.” I snorted as he chuckled, crashing onto his bed.  “I guess I just admire your ability to throw your conscience away at times like these.”

He paused, leading me to think I said the wrong thing.  Before I could think of a way to backpedal, he lay back, running a hand through his hair.  “Everyone here has a conscience. Turning a blind eye to certain things is something of a defense mechanism for a lot of us.”

“Explains how you’ve all been able to survive here for so long I guess.” I hummed, gazing at the still ceiling fan above me.

“We may have been tainted by the world of wealth and power but I think we’re all still tryin’ to hold on to the last shreds of innocence we have, y’know? At the end of the day, we’re still just a bunch of shitty kids…” he shrugged.

I frowned, thinking a lot of us - even Kenny - would be a lot better off without the trials of the life we were born into.  “This isn’t exactly hardening my heart to stop feeling so much all the time…”

Jean chuckled, nervously sputtering, “Good...I like how much of a bleeding heart you are, Freckles.”

A smile tugged at my lips.  “Really? It’s not a pain?”

“It’s good that you’re so big-hearted and shit...’cause like, if a guy like you could see the good in a guy like me...y’know, it just proves I’m not _that_ big of a trashcan, I guess…” he fumbled on his words.  I snickered, wanting so badly to turn my head and look at how flushed his cheeks are, but I decided to save him any more embarrassment.  He scoffed, leaning over to turn the lamp off.  “I dunno - don’t ask me why I like you, I just fuckin’ do, weirdo…”

He turned to face away from me, silent and going straight to sleep.  Still smiling, I didn’t even bother changing clothes like I thought I would.  I just exhaled, feeling a little calmer than before.

“I like you, too, Jean.”

I was sleeping soundly for the most part, until I found myself in a brightly lit hallway, staring up at the ceiling lights pass one after the other. I turned my head, and my chest tightened with fear at the sight of Survey Corps orderlies wheeling me on a bed. I started to panic when I realized my hands and feet were bound, and it felt like I was beyond sedated already.

They rolled the bed into a room. That room. The room they took patients to "rest" in. I couldn't even struggle the way I was before, the drugs were proving to be too much for me. I felt my stomach churning from the anxiety.

 _"Imagine having to throw up like that strapped to a bed..."_ Julien's voice echoed through the room. Somehow I just knew he wasn't coming to save me this time.

"Marco...Marco..!"

I knew...

"Hey, Marco!"

Because this was another dream..?

"Hey!"

My eyes shot open. My vision focused on the ceiling of my dorm room, and Jean's face over me. Yeah. Another dream.

I sat up, my hands over my face, partially because my sleeping face was terrible and also because these nightmares leave me feeling embarrassed, especially when he's the one who wakes me from them.

"You okay?" He asked. I just nodded my head, still refusing to look at him. There's a slight pause, and instead of arguing that I wasn't okay - which is what I know he wanted to do - he slides off of my bed.

My hands fall from my face and I watch him stand at the side of his bed and push his bed together with mine. He yanks the top covers that were tucked into his bed, as well as mine, and spreads them over both our beds. Even more embarrassed, I let out a sigh and run a hand through my hair.

"What's goin' on with you, Marco?" He sits next to me, on what's now his side of the bed.

I don't answer right away, mostly because I'm trying to find a good place to even begin. "I've only been out a couple days...maybe the nightmares'll stop soon."

"What happens?" He asked. I looked over at him, and he glanced away, trying not to look too worried about me. "In these dreams..?"

"It's just...flashbacks, really...to my worst moments there." I shrugged.

"Tell me what happened to you in there." He lies down on his side facing me, eager to listen. "We never really talked about it through that stupid fence."

"I'm pretty tired..." I turn away, laying on my back.

He huffed, nudging my leg with his. "Bullshit."

I respond with a slight chuckle, nervous and soft, because I don't think Jean realizes how much I'm not used to people caring about what goes on in my head. I was afraid he would prod more, but he let it go.

"I know I can't do anything about it now, but...y'know, I'm listening if you wanna talk about it or whatever..." He mumbled. I could see right through his attempt at being nonchalant, and was just touched at how much he cares. Jean was so honest with his feelings, any attempt at hiding them was so transparent. I quickly turned to give him a quick kiss, and immediately returned to my sleeping position, facing away from him. A smile grazed my face once I felt his hand on my back.

Once again, I managed to sleep through the night without any problems. My eyes fluttered open, and I already knew it was much earlier than I usually wake up. I checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw that it was seven o'clock, much earlier than yesterday. Jean, always the early riser, was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and vigorously ruffling his hair in the mirror. I was still a little tired, and I knew I could sleep in a little since it isn't like me to be up this early anyway, but I honestly don't want to risk falling asleep again.

Even if I wanted to, it wasn't in the cards for me today anyway.

"JEAN KIRSCHSTEIN AND MARCO BODT REPORT TO PRINCIPAL SMITH'S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY." The school intercom sounded. It was Vice Principal Ackerman. " _IMMEDIATELY_."

The water in the bathroom stopped, and Jean walked out, visibly irritated.

"Jeez, I told them _one_ day, it hasn't even been a whole twenty-four hours..! crotchety old fucks..." He mumbled, rummaging through his closet for clothes. I sighed, sliding out of bed and headed to the bathroom.

"We have what they want. Let's just get it over with."

We were headed to the main building to meet with the admins, but before we could get through the door, Kenny Ackerman came through the double doors, accompanied by TA Petra and Mr. Dawk, the English teacher. Kenny's head was bandaged, and he had an ice pack in his hand. An unsettling feeling coiled in my gut as soon as he laid eyes on us. I hoped to god he didn't remember what happened last night, but of course, he did. He slowed his pace significantly, just to stare us down, just to let us know he wasn't going to let this slide. To make things worse, TA Petra and Mr. Dawk both gave us side-eyes as well.

Jean and I made it inside the office, seeing Mr. Ackerman sitting on Mr. Smith's desk, his hands crossed and nothing but anxiety coming from him. Mr. Smith, on the other hand had his chair swiveled toward the back wall, not facing us.

"Shut the door." He said. I was totally uncomfortable with that, but Jean complied, pushing the wooden door shut. I took the opportunity to get the flash drive out of my backpack and approach their desk. The last time I was in this office, I was beaten, tased, and handcuffed to the chair in front of the desk...funny how I'm the one with the upper hand now.

I slid the USB on the desk. "This is it. The last of the copies."

"You'll make a fine businessman in the future, Bodt." Mr. Smith said suddenly, leaving me confused. "So cold, not even the slightest hint of gratitude for pulling you out of that place so flawlessly and even going so far as to put you in the same room as your friend here."

"You want me to _thank_ you? That'd be laying it on a little thick - considering you'd _leave_ me there if it wasn't for a little blackmail." I scoffed.

"Well it hardly matters now. Our secret still isn't safe." Mr. Ackerman cut in, getting right to the chase. Mr. Smith turned around, revealing his collar yanked down, the buttons popped off. Two large hickies were in plain sight, and both men were visibly embarrassed to our staring.

"Oho...Don’t tell me you two were actually caught this time.” Jean scoffed.

“That Ackerman kid came into the office saying you two were in his room last night.” Mr. Ackerman began.

"We don't even live on the same floor anymore. That kid's a little off his rocker, I hope ya know." Jean responded, completely unfazed.

"Save the lies, Haircut." Vice Principal rolled his eyes. "We figured you did a stupid thing like hide this there."

"Only after you trashed my old room..." Jean grumbled. I elbowed him to keep quiet.

"He knows you were looking for something last night. He knows you did something to get Freckles here reinstated. He cannot find out any more." Vice Principal said grimly.

"Oh come on. You two are scared of Kenny Ackerman?" Jean kept trying to downplay the situation.

"Kenny’s kept his head down for the most part since Julien Kirschstein was expelled," Mr. Smith folded his hands at his desk. Jean shifted uncomfortably next to me at the mention of his brother. Mr. Smith continued. "But we certainly haven't forgotten the damage he's caused in the years prior. He is incredibly bright for his age, and it's a sore disadvantage if he's working against us."

"So what, you sayin' he knows? We clocked 'im over the head before he could even see what we were doin'." Jean shared the blame. I took a quick glance at him, and I'm sure he saw, but he kept his sights ahead, sticking by what he said.

"Well, since my shirt does a poor job of hiding things, he could have an inkling. Now that he's got Nile--I mean, Mr. Dawk involved, our cover could very well still be blown." Mr. Smith went on. I glanced at Mr. Ackerman, who stared at his lover from the corner of his eye with nothing but pure resentment. "I'll let the two of you in on a little secret Mr. Dawk has. I recently let him off the hook about a drinking problem he's been struggling with. If it happened to resurface, I'll have no choice but to let him go."

There goes that sickening feeling in my stomach again. Mr. Smith was going so far as to jeopardize our English teacher's career to protect the fact that he's sleeping with his assistant.

"Look, we gave you the copies back. Anything after ain't our business, alright? We're not makin’ a guy lose his job just cause you can't control yourselves." Jean backed away.

"You promised us this secret wouldn't see the light of day if we did what you asked.” Mr. Smith slowly rose out of his chair.

“I promised you the _tapes_ wouldn't see the light of day, don’t put words in my mouth, you conniving bastard!” Jean said shakily.

“Watch yourself, Kirschstein. It was _your_ decision to step into the adult world and commit adult crimes, you know. Extortion is something the courts will not take lightly…” Mr. Smith snaked around his desk.  Mr. Ackerman, who was noticeably quiet, just watched with widened eyes.  Jean was trying to stand tall and stick to his guns, but as deep as we were in this situation, I could tell he was nervous, maybe even afraid.  I took his hand, squeezing it tightly; there was no way I'd let him go down for this alone.  Seeing us backed in a corner like this, Mr. Ackerman finally intervened.

“For fuck’s sake, Erwin…”

All eyes were on him.  Mr. Smith backed down a little, and the tension lifted somewhat.  “What?”

“You think these shitty brats are capable of getting rid of Dawk? They can’t even hold up their end of a bargain without fucking up. This is fucking disgraceful.” he scowled, folding his arms.  His sharp eyes darted at the two of us.  “Get out. Just keep your eyes on that Ackerman kid.”

Without hesitation, Jean pulled my arm and lead me out of the room, pulling the door closed but leaving it cracked.  The two of us stopped outside the door, just trying to regain our composure in the main office.

“What the hell was that? How pathetic are you to enlist fucking _children_ to do your dirty work?” I heard the Vice Principal hiss at his boss.

“Levi...you know how much Nile wants to see us go down for what we've done…” Erwin said softly.

“You mean for what _you_ did? You’re the one who took the woman he loved all these years and _caused_ his drinking problem. Nile may be a piece of shit, but you should’ve just let him have her…” Mr. Ackerman scoffed.  There was a pause.  I peeked through the crack of the door and saw Mr. Smith put his hands on the smaller man’s arms.  Mr. Ackerman continued.  “You...shouldn’t have proposed to her, you son of a bitch..!”

He shoved off of him.  My eyes widened at the amount of drama ensuing during the average school day.  Mr. Smith grabbed his shoulders.

“Levi, you’re being impatient again.”

“ _Don’t_ treat me like a fucking child, you shitstain.” Mr. Ackerman shot back.  “What’re you gonna do, Erwin? You gonna tie the knot with Mary, go on your little pretend-Honeymoon, make up some bullshit ass excuse about how you need to come back early for work - when in reality you’ll run your pathetic ass to my door--”

“Levi, stop it..!” Mr. Smith whisper-shouted, but his lover continued even louder.

“Begging to let you fuck me ‘cause you can’t stand being with her?”

Mr. Smith grabbed the man by the face and yanked him in a forceful kiss.  Something told me Mr. Ackerman was more than capable of getting the man off of him, but all he managed to do was pull away for a brief second.

“All I am to you is some secret fantasy…”

“You’re more.” Principal Smith leaned in to kiss him again.  “You’re everything.”

Mr. Ackerman kissed him back hard, then shoved him off, although still in his arms.  “You’re a goddamn liar.”

Mr. Smith shook his head, running his thumb over the smaller man’s bottom lip.  Jean elbowed me.  I glanced up at him, and his eyes were wide.  He mouthed “What the fuck” to me just before tuning into the rest.  I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t so invested in what was happening now, also.

“Then choose.” Mr. Ackerman spoke, much more gentler than before.  Mr. Smith - as well as Jean and I - eagerly awaited his demands.  “Choose her and live a lie, or choose me. I know exactly where we can go. We can forget all about this shitty place.”

My eyes flicked to Mr. Smith, who stood there, frozen.  Five seconds was too long to respond, and it was when the Vice President had really had enough.  He shoved off of the Principal, turning around to gather his jacket from the desk.

“Levi...you know I just can’t--”

“You just  _won't_. Don't act like I don't know the difference.” he held his hand up with a scoff.  He held his hand to his temple, trying to keep his anger under control.  “You know, that shitty Kirschstein kid had balls. I'd even venture to say more balls than you. He put everything on the line for the one he wanted.”

I took a moment to admire Jean, only to catch him looking back at me. He pinched my cheek, trying to distract me from how flushed his own cheeks were.  I felt a little bad for smiling so hard at Jean at the expense of the admins' crumbling relationship, even if they were awful people.  Mr. Smith helplessly watched as his Vice Principal storms off without him.

“Levi, what are you--”

“I’m putting in my two weeks notice by the end of the day.” Mr. Ackerman said.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mr. Smith protested, watching as the other man head outside the door.  When the two of us saw him coming, we scurried out of the office and into the hall, trying our hardest not to take heavy steps.  Thankfully, Mr. Ackerman was too pissed off to even notice us still there.  

I couldn’t speak for Jean, but what we just saw stayed on my mind.  The admins were more than tyrants running a crappy boarding school, they were real people with real problems...I actually found myself really sympathizing with both of them.  Although Mr. Ackerman didn’t want us to involve ourselves with dealing with Mr. Dawk, would he turn out to be a problem?

“I hate this school so fuckin’ much. I’m shocked I still manage to get by on my work…” Jean groaned as we got up the stairs to the second floor.  I reached for our door, about to respond, but completely lost my train of thought once I saw the door was already open.  Jean and I glanced at each other, completely on guard, then slowly peered into our room.

“What the fuck!”

Our room was ransacked.  Our beds were pushed apart, both mattresses flipped over on the floor, sheets ripped off, everything on our desks were thrown and scattered onto the floor, and our clothes and shoes thrown out of our closets.

“Again!? Did they not think we’d bring it or something!?”

He must have meant the admins. I held my head, looking around at the mess and thinking that it didn't make much sense.  Just then, I spotted a bill taped on the wall.  My eyebrows furrowed and I got closer.  “I don’t think the admins had anything to do with this, Jean…”

“Where the fuck is my slingshot?” I heard him start rummaging around the wreckage.  It was a hundred dollar bill taped onto the wall with a note scribbled on it.

“Don’t worry about your little slingshot! It’s in better hands. Ciao! Marlowe.” I read aloud.  I looked over at the uncharacteristically silent boy.  I sighed, knowing to prepare for another fight.  “It was the preps…”

“Those tacky sons of bitches! I swear I'll fuckin--!” Jean snarled, not even finishing his statement before storming out of the room.  There was no settling his anger now, so all I could do was follow and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.  It’s probably what they’re expecting.

When the two of us burst out the Boys Dorm entrance, Thomas and his boys were outside, blocking someone’s path.  Getting a closer look, it was Hitch.  Something told me to keep Jean from seeing her right away, but his instincts were hypersensitive when he was angry, and he was making his way toward her before I could say anything.

“Where is it!?” he shouted, leading Thomas and his boys to back away from her.

“Jean, listen,” Hitch began, strangely soft-spoken.

“I’m not fucking around! Tell me where it is!” Jean got in her face.  She flinched, looking away.  “You of all people..!”

“Jean, wait a minute.” I put my hand on his shoulder.

“It was Marlowe’s idea to trash your room, okay? I came to tell you where to find them!" She said. In a place like this, you learn to be skeptical of things like this, but something seemed off to me.  Strange as it was she'd betray Marlowe, she seemed sincere.

"I don't have time for the bullshit, Hitch. Gimme back my slingshot or you'll regret it!" He threatened.

"Sure, I guess I can actually be intimidated by you now that I don't have a group to call my own." She shrugged. I arched an eyebrow, promptly asking for an explanation.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"They impeached me. Marlowe convinced them all that he's the better leader." She said bitterly. Surprisingly, Jean simmered down a little bit.

"So even if they made you step down, they wouldn't run you outta the clique, right? You're still apart of them, aren't you?"

She shook her head. "That bridge is burned. Look, they're all headed to Freudenburg Manor, a mansion Marlowe's family bought in Stohess' residential area."

As soon as he heard that, Jean took off running straight off campus. Hitch followed him with those big brown eyes; I stuck around, thinking maybe there was something more she neglected to say.

"Always so impatient..." She huffed. She grabbed my arm. "Hey, tell Jean to come to our old spot tomorrow after school. I have more to tell him."

I turned to Thomas, Dazz, and Franz.  "You guys feel like helping us out?"

The three of them had wicked grins spread across their faces.  

Their old spot? I know they used to date, but what did she have to tell Jean that she couldn't tell me? There were a million things that came to mind, but I had no time to dwell on them, I had to catch up to Jean. After Thomas made a quick phone call for a little reinforcement and a bicycle found near the entrance, I mentally prepared myself for the battle that would take place. It was easier than preparing myself for whatever Hitch has planned for us - well, _Jean_ \- afterward.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've literally been trying to update this chapter since Wednesday! But my schedule has been such a bitch!  
> 18 chapters I feel is drawing it out a bit. I'm trying to speed things up a bit, so stay tuned :D Oh yeah, always love to hear what you guys think too~  
> Also! Super late, but I drew up all the main characters in their respective factions to give myself a better idea on how to write them. Here's the link if you wanna take a looksie :)  
> http://freckled-stallion.tumblr.com/post/108575319528/so-i-drew-these-as-character-practice-but-ended


	18. Dishonorable Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco goes straight for the balls!

Jean

The crumpled hundred dollar bill Marlowe left in our room was in my pocket;  I wanted to shove it down his throat when I was finished with him.  I’ve only been to Freudenberg Manor once, but I remembered exactly where it was.  Unfortunately, I was so pissed I didn’t even think past making my way there on foot.  Luckily for me, a freckled angel came offering a solution.

“Jean! Wait up!”

Marco was on a bike, followed by Thomas, Dazz, and Franz, skidding to a stop beside me.  I hopped on behind him, and he continued in the direction I was already headed in.  “Thomas’ boys'll be on their way to help once some of them get outta punishment duty. Shouldn’t be too long.”

“What would I do without you, Freckles?”

He cracked a smile, picking up the pace on his peddling.  “Just tell me where to go.”

“Don’t take the main roads. We can’t let the cops catch us out here before school’s out.” I said.  Now that my brain wasn’t running a mile a minute along with my body, I realized that taking backways and avoiding local police would prolong the way to Marlowe’s mansion.  

The Garrison let its student body freely roam the town of Stohess, only on a certain schedule.  From eight in the morning to three in the afternoon on regular school days, students found in town were considered truants, and local police would return them to Principal Smith’s office to await punishment.  Curfew began at 9pm sharp, every day, and the same rules applied.  Those rules never applied to me, though.  Kenny showed my brother and I every nook and cranny of this shitty town, so we’d know just where to go to hide from the cops or shake them if we're caught.

“They’re probably expecting just the two of us to show up there so they can ambush us. You sure you don’t wanna wait for Thomas’ boys to round up so we won’t be outnumbered?” Marco asked from the corner of his eye.

I smirked.  “Listen to my first mate talkin’ strategy to me.”

“Jean…” he grumbled, and I could see his ear turning red from my angle behind him.

“Don’t sweat it, lovebirds,” Thomas peddled beside us.  “My crew skips school all the time. They’ll know how to get there.”

“Good.” I nodded.  I checked our peripherals to make sure we were on the right track and out of sight.  As we turned the corner into the residential area, I noticed Dazz was trailing behind.  Thomas caught my stare and scolded him.

“Get the molasses outta your ass, Dazz! Move it!”

Dazz glanced up at the rest of us, then pedaled faster.  The closer he got, the more I saw how anxious he looked about something.

“Before we do this, Bodt,” he began.  Marco offered his attention, still trying to focus on the path ahead.  “I just wanna...y’know, say sorry for that day...when I called you a…”

“Oh, yeah,” Marco cut him off before he could say it again.  “Don’t worry about it, Dazz. We’re helping each other out now.”

Dazz shook his head, keeping up with Marco at the head of the pack.  “I was just real pissed, y’know? That Kenny Ackerman kid told me you were talkin’ shit about me and my family, and y’know my sister’s real sick and I don’t like anyone who talks about ‘er and I know it's no excuse to say that shit, but--”

Just then, I remembered that day Marco almost beat the crap out of Dazz, and I saw his explosive rage being triggered for the first time.  I thought Dazz attacked Marco for no reason, but it seemed he was provoked.  “Kenny said Marco was bad-mouthing you, huh?”

“Yeah…” Dazz nodded.  Franz and Thomas were silent, most likely because they remembered that strain on our relationship when we were enemies.  

 

_“He was holding out on us!”_

_“All that pacifist bullshit he’s known for is just a front. He’s a fighter, Jean!"_

_"We just gotta figure out how to bring it outta him...”_

 

I could kill him! Why didn’t I piece it together that day? That the fight between Marco and Dazz was just a set up so Kenny - wherever he was watching - could get a better visual of what Marco was really capable of?

“I want you three to help me get to Marlowe, but I want your priority to be protecting Marco.” I said, looking up at the large houses we were approaching.

“What?” Marco glanced back at me.  “Jean, I know I'm no expert at it, but...I can hold my own.”

“Yeah, he kicked _my_ ass.” Thomas scoffed.

“Just listen to me and don’t let ‘em bombard Marco, alright?” I sternly reiterated my request.

The Freudenburg mansion was just as I remembered it: the largest house on the top of the hill, fountain in the middle of a circular driveway, obnoxious shrubbery cutting separating it from the rest of the neighborhood, and the Freudenburg insignia on the ground in front of the door.  Marlowe’s family has a political history, and with the stunts he’s pulled since being at The Garrison, it wouldn’t shock me to see him in Congress twenty years from now.

“Is there an alternate entrance? Somewhere we can get closer to him ‘til our cavalry gets here?” Marco lowered his voice.

I nodded, completely facing him to think this through.  “Good question. I’m thinkin’ maybe--”

_CRASH!_

Marco and I both jerk our heads to the entrance, seeing one of the front windows had a rock thrown through it.  Thomas, Dazz, and Franz blindly charge into the Freudenburg manor, shouting at the top of their lungs, demanding to get to Marlowe directly.

“Oh, what the fuck!” I shrieked, chasing after them.  Marco groaned, trailing after me.  Thankfully, we caught up to our three foot soldiers in the foyer.  “Thomas, what are you doing!?”

“Let’s go get ‘im already.” he shrugged, giving me a befuddled look.  “It was fuckin’ freezing out there…”

“With what plan!? See, this is what I meant about _thinking_ before doing things.” Marco scolded them.  Preps were beginning to flood the main hallway, there were atleast a dozen of them.  I rolled my eyes, thinking whatever was going to happen now, we might as well just roll with it.  Allies are great, but they’re not worth much if they aren’t under proper control.

Just then, Marlowe Freudenberg came strolling in from the top of the stairs.  He folded his arms, staying up top and staring down at us.

“Jean! Marco! What brings you to my humble home?” he leaned against the balcony.

"Bet you've been sitting on that corny ass entrance all day, haven't ya, Frankenburger?"

He scowled at the mispronunciation. "It’s Freudenburg."

"Gesundheit." I sneered as Marco tried to hide his snicker.

“You’ll be paying for that window, funny guy.” he pointed to his shattered window at the door.

“Right after you eat my _entire ass_ , you thieving prick! You trash my room, take Snapper, and leave a note on a hundred dollar bill? How tacky can you _get_?” I flung the bill on the ground.

“Tacky!?” Marlowe huffed, genuinely offended.  “Whatever. Y’know, I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinking. You’re right about what you said.”

“Huh?” I tilted my head.

“I’m clearly the best fit to lead this faction. Historia’s too weak to handle anything, and Hitch can't manage anything other than her cellphone and a blog anyway, why not do something with my time at this crappy school, right?”

"How delusional and insecure d'you have to be to not realize I was talkin' outta my ass?" I threw my hands in the air.

He scowled, shoving the slingshot in his pocket. "You know damn well I'm the best! Boys, take out the trash!"

Just as I thought, the group of maybe ten preps came at us at once; that was two of them against each one of us. The two in front of me right now were circling me, ready to strike at any moment.

Thomas grabbed a large vase and chucked it at the large group.  Of course, they panicked and reached to catch it.  Dazz and Franz followed suit and began snatching Freudenburg heirlooms off of the walls and stands and throwing them at the group.

“Hey! Hey, quit it! That vase costs more than your _life_ , you barbarians!” Marlowe shouted from the balcony.  I grabbed a poker from the fireplace, pointing it up at him.

“Throw the slingshot down and we’ll walk outta here.”

He clutched Snapper, shaking his head with that stupid smirk.  “No way, Kirschstein, I--”

I had no patience for any more trash talk.  I grasped the metal poker with both hands and swung at another expensive flower vase, shattering it and causing Marlowe to shriek in terror.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? You’re gonna pay for that, you horse-faced bastard!”

I flipped him off.  “I'm not fuckin' around, asshat. Give it back!”

“Take it easy, Jean..." Marco mumbled nervously, just loud enough for me to hear. He was right, I couldn't break all of his things, even if he stole something of mine, but leave it to me to act drastically in order to prove a point. Luckily, Marlowe was too afraid for his assets to test me any longer.

"Look, alright, this is how we're gonna settle this..." He quickly made his way down the stairs. "You and me, one on one. Winner gets to keep the slingshot as well as dominion over their opponent."

"Fine, let's go." I cracked my knuckles. He flinched at the sound, then continued.

"Let's head to the backyard." He cocked his head to the side. His boys began clearing out of the main hall and migrated toward the back. Thomas and his boys followed, and so did I. Marco took my hand, and I looked back at the worry in his eyes.

"I gotta bad feeling, Jean. There's way more of them than there are of us..."

Very true, but what else are we supposed to do?

Once we got outside, the chill of the November air shot through us. A circle formed around Marlowe and I, causing my adrenaline to start rushing. Marlowe handed Snapper to one if his boys; Marco made sure not to take his eyes off of it.

"Last chance, Jean. You can just leave and let me have the slingshot...as well as your obedience...I'm not such a bad leader, y'know." He shrugged, coming closer.  "You're much too unrefined to lead anything of any importance, don't you think?"

"This Garrison hierarchy bullshit never meant anything to me. I have what's called a _life_." I rolled my eyes.

"Such lack of ambition...I pity you self-made lesser folk, I truly do. Your family managed to make a measly name for themselves, but it won't matter, because you just aren't built for managing a dynasty." he gave a sympathetic sigh.  "I mean, case and point, with you being an all around failure and your brother a miserable cokehead, who will carry your family name--

"Shut your fucking mouth, you inbred son of a bitch!" I gave him a hard shove.  He deflected it, trying to shove me off.  He was taunting me, and I was falling for it. As much as I wanted to just clobber him and be done with it, Marlowe and his lackeys decided to take up boxing since attending the Garrison, and I have to admit, they're not half bad. I've seen him fight, but not enough to know exactly what I'm up against.

"Kill 'im, Marlowe!"

"Take out the trash!"

"Teach this reject some respect!"

The surrounding preps began getting louder, and Marlowe and I circled each other, inches away from the other.

Suddenly, he swung, right jab. I moved, quickly reacting with a hook at his face, missing by a hair. He tried to jab me again, and instead of dodging, I grabbed his arm and yanked him into an elbow to the face.

A collective "ooh" rippled through the crowd as he stumbled back, holding his nose. I wasn't about to give him any time to recover; I went right back in to sock him in the gut, but he stepped out of the way, kicking his leg out and tripping me up. Shit. I was about to fall into the crowd of preps, but instead of moving out of the way, surprisingly, they caught me. Two of them had my arms, turning me around to face the prep leader. I tried to squirm out of their grip, but they weren't letting go.

"Hey--! What the fuck!"

"You can't do that!" Marco came to my defense, about to come pry these two off of me, but more of Marlowe's boys apprehended him. Thomas, Dazz, and Franz were held up as well.

Marlowe socked me right in the stomach, and I jerked forward, my knees buckled under and a strained cry escaping my mouth.

"Jean!" Marco cried, trying to fight off two preps shoving his face in the dirt. He was right, this was a trap.

Marlowe gave me a mean hook to the face, grabbed my hair and forced me to look at him. "Give up. You're making me look like a brute."

In response, I spat blood on shoes. nose wrinkled with disgust, and he cocked his fist back. "Now I have to burn a good pair of $500 shoes!"

I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing myself for the blow, but a sudden commotion on the other side of the house distracted Marlowe and his boys. The fence separating his backyard started to shake.

"It's the rest of Thomas' boys..!" One of Marlowe's boys said, letting go of me. As Thomas' brigade of maybe a dozen hulking boys came stampeding into our direction, Marlowe's boys began to scatter, preparing to defend themselves. The one who had Snapper was trying to sneak off into the manor, but Marco was hot on his tail. I looked back at Marlowe, who seemed a little nervous.

"Now that we're on equal footing, we can do this right."

"Just because I didn't fight fair doesn't mean I can't fight at all." Marlowe got in fighting stance. Oh, I know that. Still, I had to talk more shit.

"Not before your boys gotta come and save you from an ass-kicking, right? That how you won all your fights?"

"Don't talk as if you've won already, poorboy." He threw a swift punch at me.  I jumped back, hoping to land a retaliating punch at his face, but he dodged to the side, giving me two hard thumps in the gut and chest.  Fucking ow.  Since I realize how much of a dirty bastard he is, I knew he wouldn't give me any recovery time.  I cleared out of his range, swinging my full open palm at his head, clapping him in the ear and disorienting him.

"Agh..!" he squeezed his eyes shut, letting his guard down for a moment.  I took the opportunity to give him a few blows to the face, but he threw his arms over his face, and to my misfortune, his block was pretty damn effective.  When he finally recovered, he was furious.  His punches were faster, and from the wind I felt dodging them, were harder.

Dodging his attacks were really all I had, because blocking the punches hurt more than they should. I could tell he was getting frustrated, and I figured it would work to my advantage, but Marlowe is too calculating to let my toying around really get to him. The quick, direct punch he sent flying at my face wasn't one of his left or right hooks, and the half-assed dodge sent me tumbling to the ground.

"Fuck..!" I grunted, hitting the back of my head. For a split second, I saw Marco brawling with the Prep who had my slingshot, and it seemed that he'd lost his temper again.

"STOP! STOP, YOU FRECKLED FUCK! YOU'RE GONNA STERILIZE ME, STOP!"

The helpless prep was writhing on the ground, because Marco had the boy's ankles in both hands, and digging his foot into the screaming boy's groin.

"Haha, yeah fuck 'im up, Bodt!" Dazz cheered, surprisingly not fighting anyone. Jeez. I scrambled to my feet, completely disregarding Marlowe, and called to Marco to hopefully bring him to his senses.

"Marco! Foot _off_ the balls! Stop!"

"Don't ignore me, it's rude!" Marlowe hit me in the face again.  I was getting sick of this.  He lunged at me again, tackling me onto the ground. He was heavy, and if he's on top of me, my speed means nothing. I rolled us over, jabbing my fingers in his eyes, nose and mouth. He jerked away, escaping my intruding fingers, giving me the chance to get off the ground and kick him square in the chest. He flew back, crashing onto the ground, completely discombobulated. I limped toward the wheezing prep leader, knelt down, my knee pressed against his chest. He coughed, trying to knock me off of him.

"My..my inhaler..!" Marlowe groaned, clutching at my khaki pants on his chest.  I found the formidable Prep's handicap: his asthma. I glanced over, seeing his inhaler flown out of his pocket just out of his reach. I took it off the grass, dusted it off and glared down at him.

"You do what _I_ say now...you got that?" I began, holding the metal inhaler above his face. Knowing he lost, he bashed his fist on my knee again. I put more weight on his chest, and he kept wheezing, finally nodding.

"Okay..! Fine, you..call...the shots..." He panted, reaching for the inhaler. I yanked it out of his reach, letting him know I wasn't finished. "That starts with returning my slingshot, and fixing my goddamn room."

Marlowe nodded his head, a tear escaping his eye. Finally, I let him have the inhaler.

"Jean, we should go..!" Thomas scurried toward us. I looked up at his worried face, and he was looking in the direction of the large house next door. An older woman was in the window on the phone; when she saw us looking, she snapped the curtains closed.

"She's callin' the cops!" Thomas panicked. He turned to his scuffling friends. "Hey! Hey guys, stop! Scatter!"

As Thomas tried to pry his faction off of the preps and get them off of Freudenburg property, I looked over at Marlowe, who was slowly sitting up.

"You should...go from...the back way...from where the Bullies came from..." He tried to catch his breath. "Cut through the...neighbors yards...to the...other side of town..."

I held my hand on his shoulder, placing the inhaler back in his face. "Alright, I got it. Take it easy. Stall the cops if you can.”

"Jean..." A voice called. I looked over, seeing a beaten up Marco Bodt stumble toward me, Snapper in his hand. "I got it back..."

"Jesus fuck, Marco..!" I scrambled to my feet. He fell right into my arms, trying to hold himself up.

"We gotta go!" I heard Thomas say. Dazz and Franz already were running toward the fence. I heard faint sirens in the distance. I turned to Marco, holding his wrist.

"Can you run?"

"I have to." He held his side, tugging me along to join the others.  I kept looking over at Marlowe, still woozy on the ground, along with the other preps.  They got what they had coming to them, and now that they know better, it’s time we left.

Police sirens were blaring, and we had to clear out fast.  Since police crowded the entrances, the only way out seemed to be the way Marlowe told us - over the fence to the neighbor's yard. Thomas, Dazz, and Franz climbed up and over with ease. I got down and set my hands down to give Marco a boost. He easily made it over the fence, falling into Thomas and Franz's arms. Knowing he was safe, I hoisted myself up on the fence and over it, letting them catch me. The five of us were about to take off without any sense of direction, but we didn't manage to get very far before a black luxury car pulled up on the side of the road.

"Hey!" A voice called. The two of us looked over at the road, seeing Hitch Dreyse hanging out of a car window, donning a headscarf and large sunglasses. "Get in!"

Marco slung my arm over his shoulder and dragged me toward the car.  Once inside, I scowled, seeing Hitch's driver, Corgan, at the wheel.  I immediately frowned, crossing my arms and slouching in the seat, squished between Marco and Franz.

“Oh, Miss Dreyse, I thought you wished to pick up some friends, what’s this stray dog doing here?” he sneered at me, continuing to drive off of the Freudenberg's property.

“See this shit? _Generations_ of wealth. Their _butler_ gets away with calling me an animal.” I nudged Marco, who gave a sheepish smile and leaned in toward Hitch.

“I dunno how to thank you, Hitch.”

“Spend the night.” she abruptly turned in her seat.  Everyone was silent. My stomach flipped, not out of nervousness, really...but something just seemed a little off.  “I wanted to talk to you at our old spot, but I worried a little and figure since you’ll get yourself into this kind of trouble anyway to keep you under my roof.”

I look at Marco for approval, and he looks a little irritated. "What, you didn't trust me to relay the message to him?"

"To be honest, no, I didn't, pretty boy." She shot back.

I jerked my head toward Marco, who just huffed and sat back with folded arms. Hitch picked at her nails a little, also silent after their exchange. What the hell went on between them? Thomas cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence.

“Uh, can you drop us off at Burger Shack? I’m starved.”

“Sure, the invite wasn’t exactly meant for you anyway.” she shrugged, signaling Corgan to drop them off first.  The three ex-bullies turned their heads to Marco and I, then back in separate directions. I felt so awkward, because we were in the debt of my ex, not to mention spending the night at her house. Marco was silent, and tried to keep a straight face, but who would be comfortable being in this situation? I rested my hand on his knee, catching his eyes and letting him know things will be alright.

Corgan stopped in the BurgerShack parking lot, and Thomas opened the door. He gave us one last awkward look before Hitch peered through her sunglasses, sending a death glare for them to leave.

"Er, see you at school, guys..." They slid out of the car and shut the door. Without hesitation, Corgan stepped on the gas and exited the parking lot. Since there was more room in the car, I slid over.

"Look, Hitch, I appreciate this, but you can just drop us off at the dorm." I began.

"It'd be a smarter idea to let things blow over a little. Not even your idiotic friends wanted to go back, yet." She said.

"We ain't spending the night." I said firmly. "We don't have overnight clothes or anything, so we might as well--"

"Please, Jean, do you know who I _am_? Besides, I still have some of your clothes. You'll be fine."

At that, Marco arched an eyebrow, glancing at me, then back out the car window. I sighed, sinking down in the seat.

* * *

When we arrived at Hitch's beach house, Corgan lead all of us inside.  I dreaded every minute of this, only because I had no idea what Marco was feeling about it all.  He wasn’t exactly excited to be here, but he must’ve been exhausted from the fight, and cold, so I couldn’t read his face...hell, he’s so good at hiding how he really feels, it’s not like I was ever able to really read his face.

“Guest room’s upstairs, second room on the right.” Hitch said, flipping the light switch.  “Whatever Jean left here is in the drawers against the wall. Might be a little small on you, but they’ll have to do for tonight, right?”

“Thanks.” Marco mumbled, going ahead.  I watched him slowly make his way up the stairs, and once I heard the door of the guest room shut, I turned my head to Hitch and Corgan.  She pretended not to notice my glare at first, but her eyes finally met mine, and Corgan couldn’t take much more of the tension.

“Well, I’ll get dinner started then.”

“I ain’t hungry.” I said.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind after you clean up.” Hitch said, touching my arm.  I glanced at her hand on my arm, then back at her.  

“I know we’re uh...friends now and whatever, but don’tcha think you’re laying it on a little thick?”

She snorted, headed toward the kitchen.  “Subtlety was never my strong suit, Jean-y.”

Alright, whatever the hell that means.  I had to check on Marco.  In the back of my mind, I had an idea of what might be going on with Hitch, but I’m too tired to even think about dealing with it right now.  Maybe if I ignored it, it wouldn’t turn into a problem.

I made my way to the guest room.  “Marco? You okay..?”

“Just a little sore…he really got me…” he held his side.  I laid him down onto the pillow, unbuttoning his white shirt.

“Yeah, well, from the way you nearly crushed his balls, I’d say you really got _him_.”

I lifted the shirt, seeing a large bruise where his ribs were.  My eyebrows furrowed; what if they were fractured, or broken? Marco may have been getting a little better at fighting, but this is was the reason I didn’t want him to.

“What's Thomas even good for if he doesn't do what I fuckin' tell 'im to? I _told_ him to watch out for you! And those fuckin’ preps. I’m gonna give ‘em hell for this. They’re not seein’ anything nice outta me until I--”

“Jean, it’s okay,” Marco started to laugh.  His hand rested on mine on top of his bruise.  “Marlowe was just tryna keep himself on top, just like Thomas was. So I got a little hurt, I didn’t expect getting Snapper back to be a cakewalk…”

In the pause that followed, I couldn’t think of much to say after that.  Marco was definitely learning and accepting how things worked around here, so much that he’s reminding me.  He was right.  If I wanted this alliance to last, I couldn’t be petty.  Worse, I couldn't let the other factions see how much of a weakness Marco actually is to me.  I brushed his bangs back, and he closed his eyes, resting a while.  I slowly moved away, trying not to disturb him.  If I was going to be any help to Marco, it starts with a shower; I always feel better after a shower.  

When I got back, Marco was sitting up, rubbing his head and checking his phone.  I looked through the drawers in the room, and as Hitch said, some of my old T-shirts and pants were neatly folded inside.  My eyebrows furrowed, and my first thought was to glance back at Marco, who wasn't paying me much attention.  Why hadn't she thrown any of this stuff away? When I noticed Marco standing up, I turned and threw some clothes on the bed.

"You gonna shower? You need help?"

He gave me a smug look, and after realizing the possible context of my question, I tried to backtrack, but he was already laughing.  "Not so fast, Jean, we're not there yet..."

"Shut up..." I spun around, hiding the slight redness in my face.  “I'm thirsty. She always had soda in the fridge...I’ll go see.”

"As if I can go anywhere else..."

This felt all too familiar. I was here, late at night, digging through the fridge like old times. It felt so weird that the only difference between then and now was that my new boyfriend was upstairs waiting for me to come back with sodas.

"You all washed up?" Hitch asked. I looked over, seeing her in an oversized shirt and boy shorts. My face began to heat up, because I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra. She smirked, knowing full well what she was doing.

I cleared my throat, glancing down at my phone.  Thank god I had it.  "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Is it true?" She stepped closer. My breathing hitched, because those big hazel eyes and round breasts were only inches away from me. "Julz is somewhere in Stohess?"

I looked away, scowling at the mention of his name, as well as the fact that she apparently _still_ has a thing for him. "What gave you that idea?"

"Annie's my roommate. Ymir came in one night and told her she's been meeting with him for a while...I guess she wanted Annie's reaction." Hitch began. She rested her hand on the counter dangerously close to mine. "I'm usually never there, so they didn't notice me in my bed that day. Bulky comforter, y'know?"

"What'd Annie say?" I asked, no longer distracted by how close Hitch is to me right now.

She shrugged. "Couldn't tell, I wasn't looking directly at them. She probably didn't care."

"When'd she ever..." I muttered, turning away. Julien always had a crush on Annie, it was one of the main reasons he had no qualms about getting close to the Burnouts. Annie, however, never seemed to return his feelings. It always annoyed me, because I always had a feeling this would get him in trouble...and in a way, I ended up being right.

Hitch took my shoulders, coming around to face me again. I forgot how short she was compared to me. "That part doesn't matter, Jean. Ymir sent him somewhere."

My eyes widened. Julien and two of his friends managed to escape the Survey Corps, is this where they went..?

"A cousin of hers. Maybe he's laying low." She went on. That has to be what he's doing. This was good news, but I was still bitter about the fact that he didn't think to come to me.  Of course, now I have to convince Ymir to give up this _cousin's_ location, but now that I've conquered and allied with the preps, there's no way that will be easy.  The Preps and Burnouts have never really liked each other, but when I first joined the Preps and Julien joined the Burnouts, tensions only got higher. I looked back at Hitch, who was staring at me so intently. I glanced off, ignoring it.

"Thanks for helping me out. I ain't letting this go 'til I find him."

I figure, why not let bygones be bygones? Who cares if she loves Julz? She's helping because she cares about him, and that's something, I guess.

Hitch put her hand on my cheek, and my heart jumped a little, but she didn't flinch. Moments like these were still familiar; my immediate reaction was to hold her hand to my face and pull her close to me, like before. Once I took the first step and took her hand, a warm smile pulled at her lips. Simple muscle memory took me back to a time where I believed Hitch was the only girl who understood me, who was just a misunderstood heiress and I was the only one who got her, that our relationship only needed a little extra work...

What is wrong with me! Neither of us are those people anymore. Memories are just that, memories, hazy and hollow, begging to be filled with unnecessary meaning. I placed her hand down at her side and turned to take the sodas and head upstairs to the guest room. However, Hitch always was persistent.

"Jean," she called. Why did I turn around? I was met with her lips pressed onto mine. I dropped the cans, immediately pulling away. When I did, my eyes darted to the far end of the kitchen, and of course, Marco stood there, all cleaned up and looking at me with a world of hurt in his eyes. I gasped, about to plead my case, but he didn't stick around to hear it. He spun around and dashed right back up the stairs. Ignoring the frustrated thumps of his feet against the wooden stairs, Hitch leaned in again. It took everything in me not to shove her across the room.

"What're you doing?!"

"I saw it, Jean. You want me, too." She said.

" _What?!_ "

"If he wasn't in the picture, you wouldn't hesitate. You still like me, so let's try again." She put her arms around my neck. I threw them off of me and put some distance between us.

"Stop _touching_ me!"

"Why? Because you know it's true? Look, with some better understanding, we can make it work, you know? My feelings for you never went away, Jean. Things just got complicated." She shook her head, her eyes practically watering. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, bull _shit_! You gotta crush on Julien! My _brother_! You made this same move on him and you were shocked when I dumped your ass? What is wrong with you!?"

"Nothing is wrong with me! I still have feelings for you!"

" _And_ him?" I scoffed, expecting to hear her deny it, but to my surprise,

"Yes. I love you both."

Honestly, I was at a loss for words. I thought I would be angry, but...just loss. She looked so sincere, that she genuinely believed she could have us both.  She continued.  “Look, don’t think I’m crazy, okay? I just...sometimes I like more than one person at the same time. I think it’s perfectly normal to be able to love two people equally!”

“Hitch...do you realize you’re proposing to date me and my brother? At the same time!?”

“It’s not like I meant to fall for you two in particular…” she shrugged sheepishly.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” I began, stepping back, but she leveled out the distance between us once again.

“Doesn’t matter?”

“I’m getting Marco and we’re leaving.” I held my hands up, signaling I was done with her and this conversation.  I was beyond confused, but the point of it all was that whatever I felt for Hitch died a long time ago, and there was no use dwelling on it now, especially with a pissed off Marco Bodt upstairs possibly about to dump my ass for this gross misunderstanding.

When I raced up the stairs to the guest room, Marco was at the door.  When he saw me coming, hand extended, he immediately slammed it shut.  Thinking quickly, I cried out,

“Ahh! My finger!”

He swung it open, face riddled with guilt.  I’m a douchebag, but I knew for a fact he wouldn’t let me in otherwise.  “Oh my--did I hurt you?”

“Marco, please listen,” I take him by the shoulders, stepping into the room.  Realizing he was tricked, the anger flared up again.

“Cheap shot.” he shoved off me. I chased after him, trying to stay in his line of sight while delivering the oh so famous line,

"Marco - it's not what it looked like..!"

He scowled, placing his cellphone to his ear. "Thomas? Hey, could you come to Hitch's beach house and walk with me back to campus--"

I snatched the phone out of his hand and got some distance between us. "No no no, Thomas, forget that..!"

"JEAN." Marco shouted, startling me a little. He snatched his phone right back, leaving me at a bit of a loss. "Thomas, get over here."

"Marco, c'mon..." I pleaded. "You're not even gonna hear me out?"

He twitched, grasping at his side. His aches from the fight were bugging him, forcing him to go limp and sit down on the bed. I was about to rush to his side, but I could feel he didn't want me near him.

"I'm not gonna go through this again, okay?" He softly said, his head turned. Right when I was about to accuse him of overreacting, I understood why.  'Again', huh?  Marco doesn't talk a lot about the ex boyfriend who caused him to end up at the Garrison, so there's a lot I don't know, but I'm realizing how much the heartache actually scarred him.  That _was_ his first love, after all...

"Don't compare me to him; it's not fair." I said, going to sit down beside him. By the look on his face, that comment seemed to get through to him, but he was still giving me the cold shoulder.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, will you?" Hitch swung the door open.

"Can't you knock?!" I stood up.

"In my own house? Don't be ridiculous." She waved me away. "Listen, Bodt, I did try my luck with Jean, but he's very much into /you, apparently. Let's just forget it ever happened alright?"

Shocked that she cared as much to go this far, I just stood there like an idiot, glancing back and forth, unsure of whether I should thank my ex or give puppy eyes to my very angry boyfriend. The awkward silence took it's toll, and Hitch sashayed down the hall, giving us our space.

I turned back to Marco sitting close to him on the bed, taking my time to gently pull his hand from his bruised face. "Look here, Freckles..."

His big brown eyes flicked toward mine, and I immediately wanted to swallow what I planned to say, but if there anything about me to compete with my pride, it's my need to make a point.

"You're the one who just...shows up outta nowhere with your dorky haircut and princess bubblegum boxers and just... _sneaks_ up me." I grumbled, seeing him start to smile at the corner of my eye. "You can't just quit on me, not when you got me...y'know..like..."

"Hopeless?" He tilted his head with a slight smile.

Yes! Exactly that, I am hopeless for this boy! As much of a sap as I am I wasn't about to admit that out loud, though. I scowled. "Listen, I would never, ever, _ever_ betray you, you got that?"

He nodded, and I could see the guilt on his face. "I know. I know you're not that kinda guy. I'm just...a little new at..."

"I'll give you the passcode to my phone. I'll text you when we're not together. I'll never talk to her again if that's what you want." I went on.

"Jean, please!" he chuckled.  "I'm not _that_ bad..."

The more Marco displays how much his past has affected him, the more I want to know about it.  Usually, like my past relationships, I didn't care...but there was just something about Marco Bodt - as cheesy as that sounds - I wanted to know better, to protect.  There was no way he could go through so much, and still be so bighearted...atleast I couldn't.  He was looking at me right now, possibly wondering why I was so silent, but I knew my embarrassment would turn me to mush if I admitted any of this.

His phone vibrated, lighting up between us.  He picked it up, and saw the text from Thomas saying that he was outside the house.

"I really don't..." he began, but I cut him off, standing up and grabbing our things.

"I get it. We'll just sneak back into the dorms."

The two of us got downstairs near the entrance, running into Hitch's butler, Corgan.  He blinked a couple times, probably a little surprised to see us with shoes on and our belongings in our hands.  I cleared my throat and continued to the door.  "Give Hitch our thanks...but like we said before, staying over wasn't necessary."

"Very good, then. I hope not to see any more of you, Kirschstein." he turned on his heel, headed into the other room.  I narrowed my eyes at his back, glaring daggers as Marco snickered, dragging me out of the house.  Once outside, Thomas, Franz, and Dazz were on bikes, shivering and sniffling in their jackets.

"Everything okay? You sounded mad." Thomas swung his leg over the bike, about to leave.  Marco shook his head with a slight smile, standing on the back behind him.

"Nah...we're fine."

As the three of us coasted through the quiet town, I quickly began to realize how badly prepared we were for the weather.  Sprinkles of snow slowly fell from the night sky, dampening our clothes and newly-showered hair.

"Aw, shit! I hate winter!" Dazz groaned, peddling faster.

"Keep your voice down, Dazz, they might still be lookin' for us..!" Franz shushed him.

"How can I? Just one step closer to school closing and havin' to deal with my trash family..." he grumbled.  That's right.  Thanksgiving.  The bright side of it all was that we could finally stop dealing with the shit we take from each other at school...but it was nothing compared to the abuse some of us got at home.  We would be home for about three days, but even that was too long...it only prolonged the inevitable two-week long winter break waiting for us in December.

I looked over at the silent wounded Marco as the Bullies talked amongst themselves.  His hair lightly blew through the winter breeze as we rode on the backs of these probably stolen bikes.  Maybe he was cold, and achy, but he seemed the most reluctant to go home.  What was waiting for him this Thanksgiving?  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!!!  
> School's out and I finally have time to properly ignore my obligations as an adult and indulge in fandoms (I'll probably read this in 10 years and cringe). Winter is here, the Preps are finally under control, and the babes only have to conquer: three other factions, the administration, as well as their own personal problems ://   
> Thank you for sticking around if you have! :)


	19. Nervous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some pre-Turkey day petting for your soul~

Marco

“C’mooon, Freckles, we’re gonna be late.”

“I can’t find my scarf! Have you seen it? Made of wool, royal blue, really long?”

“You’re askin’ me where _your_ stuff is?”

Days after the battle with the Preps, they ended up surrendering their services to us, starting with cleaning up the room they ravaged.  To be honest, I still haven’t really gotten used to the twisted way this school operates, but I’m nowhere near as helpless as I was when I was starting out.  Jean actually relies on me, too, now...I felt good about that, atleast.

The snow that started from that night finally came to a stop, and the entire campus is now covered in a blanket of white.  I looked over at Jean sitting at the edge of our combined bed, slouched over on his phone, bundled up in his red hoodie and tapping the heels of his bulky, black boots on the floor.  He hated the cold, but I didn’t mind it at all, not when he looked this good.

“You’re no help at all.” I scoffed, trying to fix my hair in the mirror.  As I rummaged through my drawers, I expected to hear a retort, but the subject changed.

“Hey...are you ignoring your mom?”

I jerked my head around, and the reaction seemed to startle him.  “What?”

“She just texted you…” he said, my phone lit up in his hand.  “For the twelfth time, apparently…”

Short answer: yes, I am ignoring my mom, but I had no intention of ever talking about it.  I walked over and took the phone from him, sticking it in my pocket, only further piquing his interest.  I glanced at the clock, and saw that it was almost eight o’ clock.  Class was going to start soon.

“You should go ahead to class.” I told him.  “I’ll catch up soon...I’m a little disoriented…”

“Yeah, I can see…” Jean stood, giving me that concerned look.  I flashed him a smile, hoping it would convince him not to worry, and it seemed to work.  I leaned in and gave his lips a light kiss.  “Go ahead, I’m right behind you.”

Just then, my phone started vibrating in my pocket.  I pulled it out and saw that it was my mother calling.  Jean glanced down at the phone, then at me.  “You gonna get that?”

If I didn’t, it’d only worry him.  I slid my thumb across the answer button, watching him the whole time.  It was only when I placed the phone to my ear that he stepped back to leave the room.  “Hello...?”

“Why haven’t you been picking up, Marco!?” her voice startled me.  “I’ve been calling and calling, I was worried something happened!”

“ _Now_ you’re worried..? I mean, a lot’s happened…” I tried to keep my tone level.

“Things have been extremely hectic on our end, honey.” she said.  I rolled my eyes, not really surprised at that response.  “Listen, your father and I received the news of what’s been happening with you. We will discuss it when you come home tomorrow.”

My eyebrows furrowed.  “Tomorrow?”

“If you’d answered your phone sooner, we would have planned for you to come today. We wouldn’t let you spend Thanksgiving at school!”

 _‘You oughta...’_ I closed my eyes, holding my palm to my face.

“I’ve already booked your flight and arranged for a car to take you to the airport from school tomorrow morning at eight o’ clock. Don’t be late!” she said.  “I texted you all the information.”

I shoved my homework in my bag, not even caring about the scarf anymore.  “You sound chipper.”

“That’s because I have a surprise for you, darling. You’re going to be absolutely ecstatic!” she beamed.

“Surprise, huh?” I gulped.  Coming to the _Garrison_ was their idea of a surprise…

“My lips are sealed until you get here! Oh, I can’t wait to see you again, my sweet boy! We have so much catching up to do...but until then, I’ll let you go.” she sighed.  “See you soon, honey! Kisses!”

I didn’t even say goodbye.  I just hung up, incredibly anxious about this surprise my parents had for me.  No, I was just anxious about this break altogether.  As I walked out of my room and into the dorm hall, it was much quieter than usual.  Even outside on campus, I didn’t see anyone bullying or chasing anyone else.  It was such a stark contrast from my first couple days here.  It seemed as if since everyone had to go home now, a temporary calm wafted over the school.  The double doors of the school entrance were shut, and I tried my hardest being quiet as I entered.  Though the inevitable slam echoed through the halls, there weren’t any TAs patrolling the hallways.  Maybe they had taken early leave, too, given how stoic the environment tends to get around the holidays.  When I entered my half empty classroom, Mr. Dawk stopped his incessant droning just to stare at me.

“Sorry I’m late.” I muttered, quickly throwing my homework pages on his desk.  He glanced down at them, then back at me.

“Anyway, as I was saying before Mr. Bodt strolled in late…”

I just took a breath of relief as I found my seat next to Jean, who was smirking to himself at my embarrassment. I'm usually very prudent in taking notes and paying attention, but along with the rest of the school, I was in a funk. What did any of this matter once I got home?

“Alright, as you know, Thanksgiving is upon us. You’ll have a short break to study up on anything you need before finals.” Mr. Dawk paced the front of the classroom.  For the past hour and a half, I felt really uncomfortable.  Luckily, I have English with Jean, because I don’t think I’d be able to handle Mr. Dawk’s side-eyes alone.  “Study hard, enjoy your Thanksgiving, and I’ll see ya on Monday.”

It was Wednesday, and Thanksgiving fell on a Friday this year.  A lot of kids didn’t show up for class today, since they had to catch flights to wherever home was for them.  I could have been one of them, but I planned on stalling for as long as possible.

_DING DING DING_

Students shot up out of their seats to exit the classroom.  Jean lifted his head, sleepy eyes and close-knit brows.  A smile pulled at my lips as I gathered my things and stood up.  I patiently waited for him to collect himself so we could go back to our room together.

“You two, just a second…” Mr. Dawk strolled through the narrow spaces between the desks, hands behind his back and eyes fixated on us.  “I just have something to ask.”

“What is it, Mr. Dawk?” I asked.  Jean was quiet, staring suspiciously at the man.

“Things have gotten a little more hectic around here since you showed up, Bodt." He folded his arms, leaving me confused. "It's almost as if you were the right push Jean needed in the direction of delinquency."

"Hah..?" Jean scoffed, his eyebrow arching from Dawk's statement. I found it almost laughable.

"You're calling _me_ a bad influence on Jean?"

"Jean _was_ in significantly less trouble before you showed up. He was on cordial terms with the other students...even close friend Kenny Ackerman couldn't stick around after you came along..." Mr. Dawk tilted his head.

"Ahh, finally, we see what this is really about!" Jean cut in. "I dunno what Ackerman told you about us, but you'd do well not to believe a word he says."

“Right, because there’s no way you’d wanna tell me what you two were doing in his room that night?” he finally said.  My stomach flipped, and I glanced off.  I thought that was over and done with…

“We would! Y’know, if we were ever in that room after it became his…” Jean shrugged, already ahead with the lies.

"Kenny Ackerman clearly remembers the two of you in his room...he wasn't hit that badly on the head." Mr. Dawk folded his arms.

"Yeah but there sure is a hell of a lot else wrong with his head..." Jean shrugged.

“Watch yourself, Kirschstein.” Mr. Dawk pointed a finger at him.  Jean, unfazed, just continued to pack up his things and tug at my shirt.

“Let’s go, Marco, I’m hungry.”

“Did you find what you were looking for atleast?” the English teacher called once we turned our backs.  We should have ignored him, we shouldn’t have stopped walking, but my conscience was eating at me.  His footsteps came closer, and I was the first to turn around, hoping to god I wasn’t wearing my anxiety on my face.  He continued.  “You two were looking for something, after all, right?”

“What is your _problem_?” Jean groaned, growing impatient.

“What’s on the USB?” Mr. Dawk simply asked.  I felt like my stomach was about to drop right out of my ass at that very moment.  I nervously wiggled my fingers, noticing my hands starting to sweat.  He looked me dead in the eyes, waiting on me to contribute anything to this conversation since I’ve been silent the entire time.

“What...what are you even…” Jean stammered, trying to keep the facade, but it seemed that we’ve been found out.  Flashes of that day, the day we returned the USB to Principal Smith...the same day we last saw Kenny Ackerman walking out of the building with a bandaged head accompanied by Mr. Dawk and TA Petra...what could have happened..?

“It seems that there was something urgently important you had for Mr. Smith...TA Petra informed me of a thorough search conducted in your room for a certain...flash drive…” Mr. Dawk hummed, placing his hands behind his back.  Jean had no tricks up his sleeves this time.  I glanced out the open door, littered with students minding their own business.  It seemed as if the two of us were helpless, invisible to everyone on the outside...everyone except Principal Smith.

He was coming down the hall with Ms. Hanji and saw Mr. Dawk interrogating us.  Thankfully, my pointed glances got through to him, and he immediately rushed away from the Chemistry teacher and into the English room.  When Mr. Dawk noticed someone else in the classroom, Mr. Smith tried to look as if he had just innocently wandered into the classroom.

“Ah, Nile...these two in trouble?”

Mr. Dawk took his attention off of us for a while, and Jean used the opportunity to drag me out of the room.  I shouldn’t have looked back, but my eyes already met with the English teacher, and even though he was stopped by the Principal, none of it mattered; the fact that Mr. Smith let us leave like this just proves that we’re caught.

Jean and I were lost in the shuffle of kids, and our teachers’ voices began to fade out.  I was relieved to be out of that situation, but I knew better than to let my guard down for a moment.  Once the two of us got outside, Marlowe Freudenberg and Hitch Dreyse were standing near the entrance, as if they were waiting for us.  I frowned, still harboring a bit of resentment for the stunt Hitch tried to pull with Jean the other night, but the two of them seemed to put it behind them.  Marlowe approached first.

“Are you two going home? Do you need me to take over while you’re on leave?”

“I’m stayin’ here, so you won’t have to worry about the pressure of managing more than your own faction, alright?” Jean growled, still getting used to Marlowe’s controlling tendencies.  “Marco’s leaving for a bit, so…”

“Aw, that explains why you’re a little grumpy.” Hitch cooed teasingly.  Jean scowled, glaring at her as she snickered.

“You two just in my face to get on my nerves? Or d’you have anything to report?”

“Alliances between the Bullies and my boys are...slow. It’s a lot to ask of them considering how long ago we started working together.” Marlowe held his hands behind his back.

“Well motivate ‘em. You should go on a date with Thomas sometime.” Jean suggested.

“I’m not really in the mood for jokes, Jean…” Marlowe chuckled nervously.

“I usually laugh at my own jokes.” Jean folded his arms.  Upon seeing the horror on Marlowe’s face, Jean sighed.  “Now, you don’t have to...but you ought to. Once you get past his aggressive angst, severe insecurity, and emotional constipation, he ain’t so bad.”

“You couldn’t persuade anyone into anything if your life depended on it.” I scoffed.

“Just bein’ honest.” Jean shrugged.  “If the preps and bullies don’t know they can trust each other, how does that help us when shit hits the fan?”

“Like how? Now that you’ve pacified Thomas and his band of idiots, general terror amongst the Garrison has stopped, so that’s way less attention on us. The burnouts don’t give a shit what happens here, so long as their little contraband business isn’t compromised, and since you’re allies with us, you’re pretty okay with the Jocks, too, as long as you don’t mess with them, that is.” Hitch explained as the four of us crunched through the snowy campus.  I furrowed my eyebrows, staring at the snow start to fall once again.  She was right, but there was so much holding us back from being at peace.  When I noticed the group come to a stop, I noticed one of our many hurdles were staring us right in the face.

Armin Arlert, Mikasa Ackerman, and Eren Jaeger were in front of us, staring us down.  There were a number of things that could’ve been said between us, but neither of us spoke.  Armin started walking first, then Mikasa and Eren followed.  Eren glared at the the two of us, snarling through his muffler as we walked past. Marlowe and Hitch glanced at us, then back at the trio as they headed to the library.

"Sometimes I forget the nerds exist." Hitch smirked. "What'd you do to piss them off?"

"The key to the basement..." Jean muttered. I looked over at Jean with furrowed eyebrows. Jean mentioned that he was upset with us, but _that's_ why? That dumb old key?

"With all that's happened since you and Thomas' fight, there's no way it'd still be there." Hitch folded her arms.

"It's still worth a look..." Marlowe hummed, slowing down a little. "Leave the key to me."

Jean and I stood there, puzzled at Marlowe's volition.  Hitch just folded her arms with a smile, and something about it told me not to worry too much about whatever Marlowe was planning. Jean was over it, and ready to head inside. Hitch headed past the entrance and was on her phone, possibly calling a car to take her to her vacation home near the water.

"She's supposed to be getting leads on where Historia could be...she's the first one she'd call after all, right?" Jean said as we headed up the stairs to the second floor. Maybe.

"I swear, once we find out where Julien is, we're done with this clique bullshit." He plopped down on his side of the bed, not bothering to take his hoodie or boots off. I leaned over his sprawled out body, tugging apart the laces on his boots.

"No we won't. Atleast...it won't be done with us."

"What d'you mean?" He asked, kicking his loose boots off. I leaned over, looking into those pretty hazel eyes.

"Ymir is a big part of finding out where Julz is, right? Say she decides to ally with us and help. What if that threatens the Jocks? And what about the Nerds? What about Kenny?"

"Ugh..." He groaned. We both knew Kenny was the biggest problem here. He wanted to be on top, and the first step to doing that is crushing us with the factions who aren't on our side yet.

"On a better note...Thomas and his boys, even Marlowe...they look up to you." I cracked a smile.

"You kidding me? They just do what we say 'cause we beat their asses in front of their own faction." He scoffed.

"Maybe." I smirked. "But they're really loyal to us...More than they have to be. You're a really good leader, Jean."

“Me?” He scoffed. I nodded, giving him a smile.  He shook his head.  “I dunno…”

“Well, I see it even if you don’t. I’ve seen it for a long time.” I said earnestly.  He just stared at me, not knowing how to respond.  I took the opportunity to move in for a kiss, but maybe I came on a little too strong.  He sat up, causing me to flop back on the bed.

“Erm...wanna go to the lounge and play some games? I think someone broke your record on the arcade machine.” Jean chuckled softly.

I frowned.  “I would defend my title...but I gotta start packing.”

“Packing?” he turned to me.  “You goin’ home for Thanksgiving?”

“Aren’t you?” I dragged a small suitcase from under the bed.  He shook his head.

“Too short notice. My folks won’t even be home.”

“Huh. Lucky you.” I hummed, trying to plan three days worth of clothes and shoes.  Honestly, I wanted to ask Jean to come home with me.  I absolutely did not want to deal with this alone...but I don’t want to ask something that huge of him, and I knew for a fact putting him in my grossly uncomfortable home environment for more than a day wasn’t a good idea, either.  I looked back at him, noticing how quiet he was.  When his eyes met mine, he cracked a half smile.

“Well...can’t do much but see you off and relentlessly bother you on social media the whole time, right?”

“Bother. As if.” I scoffed.  I don’t want him to stop texting or skyping me for a minute.  I imagine I’ll be in my room the whole time anyway.

“You’re…I mean...” he began, glancing around and trying to find his words.  I sat next to him on my side of the bed and waited for him to continue.  “Obviously you’re pissed at your parents for leaving you in this shithole, but…”

He must’ve still been wondering about my behavior this morning.  I didn’t really want to talk about it, but I figured if Jean was going to be this close to me, he’d have to know sooner or later.  “Remember when I let it slip that my dad wasn’t...really my dad?”

“How could I forget?” He nodded.  Yeah.  That kind of thing could have ruined my life if Jean was the wrong person.

“My mom was a maid in his parents - my step grandparents - house before...and I get that kinda relationship is looked down upon and it must’ve been hard for her, but…” my eyebrows furrowed.  I honestly didn’t know where I was going with this explanation or why I even began here, but maybe that was the part I was the most upset about.  The root of how my childhood transpired.  “It seemed that I was always in the way...I was a burden. It was because of me that the marriage was so difficult. It was harder to go public because of me. It was harder to be accepted by his family because of me. Well, that was also because we were dirt poor, but hell - my mother wouldn’t have had to be so poor working as a maid in some rich executive’s house if she didn’t have to worry about me…”

“Marco…” Jean said softly, and the surprise in his voice only made me feel more vulnerable.  I should probably stop talking, right? But I’ve already started, and the words just kept coming.  Everything I’ve internalized the past ten years as the wealthy heir to the Bodt fortune just spilled out.

“Even though everything was my fault, he still took me in and pretended he was my dad for all this time, so I should be happy about that, right? I mean mother says I should be. She said I should be prepared for the cruel things dad’s family would say about us, but god...she never said it’d be this bad or go on for this long, y’know?” I felt my face getting hot.  “She figured if she became as shady and superficial as them, if she forgot the shitty apartment we came from, then maybe we’d be treated a little better. Watching your mother change like that is kinda sickening…”

“And when if I didn’t know how much of a piece of trash I was before, I sure found out when I was viciously outed by my ex’s father as a queer last year.” I scoffed.  “My dad made me out to be some sick, confused, monster needing to be locked up and when I thought my mother of all people would be in my corner, she acted like she no longer recognized me. The disappointment of me ‘throwing a temper tantrum’, or the fact that I’m gay was too embarrassing for her to face me about it properly. My bad, once again, I guess…”

Jean reached out and wiped the tear I hadn’t noticed were falling.  “No, damn it. Not your bad. None of this is your fault! Even if she showered you with all the expensive gifts in the world after you moved into that man’s house, it don’t change the fact that you didn’t deserve any of that shit!”

I shook my head, trying to laugh it off. "Haha...I just...have to get through these couple days, y'know?"

"Stop, Marco." Jean sighed.  I looked up at him, furrowed brows and stern look on his face, and part of me thought that maybe this was all a mistake.  He pulled me into his arms and just held me.  “Just stop…”

My vision became blurry, and my shoulders started to shake.  Part of me wanted him to stop, but I knew it was the part of me who convinced myself that it was easier to just blame myself for all of this...to listen to everyone who’s ever told me that I was a burden, unneeded, a mistake.

I thought the boy I fell in love with at first was the only one who could ever truly care about me, the first love who lied to me, cheated on me, all while keeping us a secret.  I squeezed my eyes shut, because I told myself I wouldn’t think about him anymore…but how could I not?

“You’ll be back with me before you know it.”

That’s right.  Because I had someone better.  I felt Jean’s fingers in my hair, and I felt so stupid for relapsing into those thoughts, and that person.  The single best thing in my life was right here, holding me as I ruined his white shirt with tears.  I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone hurting me, because there was a big chance he’d punch their teeth in.  He’s always honest with me.  He would never betray me.  He blackmailed two grown men in exchange for my release from a mental institution for Christ’s sake! I pulled away from him, looking at those pretty hazel eyes.

“In a way...maybe my parents did a good thing by putting me here.”

He blinked a couple times with that adorable confused frustration on his face.  “Hah..?”

No longer crying, I just leaned in and kissed him hard.  Taken by surprise, he just let me scoot on top of him and kiss him.  He eventually rested his hands on my hips and responded, deepening the kiss.  My hand traveled up his shirt, causing a hitch in his breathing.  His fingers were once again in my hair.  The temperature in the room seemed to rise as my tongue danced with his...the last time we made out like this, we were terribly drunk and unaware of the other’s feelings.  I wasn’t about to hide anything now.  

“M-Marco--” he began to speak, but I cut him off, pressing against him once again, fumbling the buttons on his shirt.  I rolled my hips against his, and the sound that followed, that soft, small whimper from him went straight to my dick. I felt his fingers dig into my side as my grinding and kissing got stronger, harder.  Our breathing was getting harder and faster, and my blood was rushing.  I just felt his hands on me, his skin heating up from my own body heat, and his nervous murmurs and sighs.  I wanted him now, before I’d have to wait until the next week.

I pulled away with a light smack, staring at those pink kiss-swollen lips.  He averted eye-contact, his face growing redder by the second.  I glanced down, finally noticing the thing that’s been poking me since I stopped grinding against it.

“Is it your first time, Jean?” I leaned in closer, my hand slowly moving lower.

“Uhm…” He looked back into my eyes, meeting me for another kiss.  When he felt me palm the bulge on his pants, he moaned into my mouth, and it was making me hotter by the second.  He never answered my question, but considering his ‘back-of-the-bus adventure’ that one year as well as his behavior now, I assume he’s just as experienced as me and continue.  As I fight one-handedly with his belt buckle, he slacks on kissing me, and seems to have trouble breathing.  I _should_ check if he’s alright, but I’m so damn horny, I simply trail kisses along his face and jawline, and down onto his neck.

“H-Holy shit…” he panted once I get his belt and zipper undone.  My hand is palming the - much more sensitive - bulge covered by his boxer briefs while my mouth is working on a well overdue hickey near his collarbone.  “Holy...holy shit, Bodt…”

I move away, admiring the mark I left, and was about to sit up to get myself out of these pants, but my boner was killed as soon as I got a good look at Jean’s face.  “J-Jean!”

“What!?” he jumps, off put by my sudden reaction.  He didn’t even notice his extreme nose bleed.  He was still panting, and he was starting to sweat.

“Are you okay? You’re bleeding..!”

“O-Oh, it’s okay, just ignore it…” he shook his head, trying to pull me in again.  I tore away from him and hopped off the bed.

“I’m not ignoring that!”

There was a sudden banging on the door.  “Hey! Quiet down in there!”

“Shit, is that a TA?” Jean jerked his head toward the door.  The door swung open, and TA Gunther steps in.

“Yeah, it’s a TA! What’re you two up to in--oh, jeez..!”

Once he got a look at Jean’s bleeding nose, there wasn’t much of anything Jean could do to protest any more.  The two of us and TA Gunther bundled up and headed into the closed school building to the nurse’s office.  Ms. Hanji was the Chemistry teacher, but she also sometimes filled in for the school nurse.  She had Jean sitting upright with his nose pinched while she got him a cold compress for his sweating.

“Did this just occur out of nowhere, boys?” she asked.  Jean and I answered at the same time.

“Yes.”

“No.”

I glared at him, and Ms. Hanji turned to us, wanting the real story.  She tilted her head.  “This could be a serious problem…”

“We were in the middle of heavy petting and that just happened!” I confessed.

“ _MARCO_.” Jean shrieked, his face beet red.

“Ah, alright. A high level of anxiety is an unusual cause of a nosebleed, but judging from your appearance, that seems about right!” Ms. Hanji chuckled lightly.  Our disheveled hair and unbuttoned clothes seemed to give it away, I guess.  Thankfully, that was all it was.

“Just kill me…” Jean groaned, palming his face.

“Hey! Keep that head elevated and fingers pinching!” she said sternly.  I gave a sigh of relief, taking a seat next to the patient bed.  Ms. Hanji started digging through her drawer.  “You should be ashamed for trying to lie about these things, Kirshstein. Doctors don’t care who you are or what you’re doing, you know, they simply want to help.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jean turned away, still incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m actually glad this happened! How far would you two have gone if Jean didn’t stress out? Unprotected sex is unacceptable!” she slammed her drawer.

“Please. A little louder, I don’t think the school heard you.” Jean grumbled sarcastically.

“Hm…” I hummed, feeling a little bad for going so far so soon.  Maybe the reason I even took it this far was because I was so stressed out about going home, about Jean not being with me, I just acted carelessly.  Ms. Hanji came over and dropped three packets of condoms on the bed.

“Here, until you two can afford a box or two of your own.”

“Oh my god…” Jean groaned.  “My nose is gonna friggin’ bleed out at this point.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you two alone.” she held her hands up, backing toward the door.  “Once the bleeding stops, you can head back to your dorm.”

“ _Thank you_ , Ms. Hanji. Fuckin’ christ.” Jean shooed her out.  I giggled to myself as she exited the room and headed down the hall.  I looked over at Jean, and he stopped brooding over how embarrassed he was and looked back at me.

“I’m sorry, Jean...I should’ve paid more attention to you.”

“No, don’t do that. It’s not a big deal…happened before...” he shrugged.  I furrowed my eyes at him, demanding an explanation as to why it happened before.  “It only happened ‘cause...I was nervous.”

“Why?” I tilted my head.  My eyes then widened with new found realization.  “You’re right. We should’ve talked about it first. I didn’t expect for it to just happen like that…”

“No, I mean - yeah, but I’m nervous ‘cause I haven’t...done it before…” his volume got considerably lower.  For some reason - maybe it was how embarrassed he was about being a virgin - I snorted, trying to quell my laughter.  He continued.  “I was kinda under the impression it was yours, too? Quit laughing!”

I just shook my head with a tight-lipped smile.  “Sorry, sorry, it’s just…”

He took a good look at me, his face still tomato red.  “This is fuckin’ wild...”

I rolled my eyes and stood up.  “Alright, I’ll leave you to waddle in your shame I guess. I gotta finish packing.”

He just pinched his nose and plopped back against the upright pillows behind his head.  I snickered, bundling up before leaving the infirmary and heading back to the Boys Dorm.  Without Jean there to really distract me, I got my packing done pretty early. It was almost eleven o'clock, and if I had any hope of getting up in the morning, I should go to sleep now.

Jean came through the door right when I was about to turn the lamp off.  He gives me one of his looks and trudges toward the bed.  I saw him open the nightstand drawer and drop Hanji’s packet of condoms inside.  His eyes met mine, and I glanced at the drawer, then back at him with a smirk and folded arms.

“Oh, what?” he huffed defensively.

“Lookin’ to go all the way next time, huh?” I teased.  He sighed, dropping down on his pillow.  I kicked my suitcase against the wall for tomorrow, then crawled into bed next to him.  “I wonder how many of those condoms Ms. Hanji used before giving us the rest of them.”

“Ohmy _GOD_ , go to sleep already!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to base this off personal experience :) If you're prone to extreme nervousness, TELL YOUR PARTNER...shit's embarrassing lmfao  
> Anyway thank you for reading! Tell me your thoughts! Stay tuned for Jean's adventures without his freckled bae around next time~ :D


	20. We All Have Something We Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Jean wants to do is sulk in his room and skype his freckled bae...but alas, clique feuds, drama with the admins, and...news of Julz..??

Jean

The alarm was blaring at the usual time it did to wake us up for school.  Usually, I don’t have a problem getting up in the morning, but there was something about days like these, where you’re waking up to get ready for a big day ahead.  Marco was travelling today. I feel so clingy, because I've been awake for ten minutes after shutting off the alarm, watching him sleep and contemplating whether we could "conveniently miss the car and flight". I sighed, shaking him.

"Marco, get up."

"Five minutes..." He grumbled, pulling the blanket over his nose.

"Quit bein' a baby, I already gave you ten." I pulled the blankets off of him, nudging him to get up.

When he did finally roll out of bed, he stretched and slumped into the bathroom. I waited until I knew he was in the shower to go in and brush my teeth and wait for him to completely get ready. It was around 7:30, and Marco emerged from the foggy bathroom, completely dressed and done up hair, still looking like a zombie. I just smiled, picking up his suitcase and following him out of the room.

The two of us plopped down together on the freezing metal benches near the open entrance gates, huddled close for warmth.  He was still half asleep, but I knew he was thinking about all that was waiting for him back home.  I just knew I needed him here, as selfish as it was.

"Jinae, right?" I stared at the ground, balancing his small suitcase on my feet. He nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Well...that's about a three hour time difference. You can definitely call anytime. I'll be up. A-And don't worry, I'll answer even if you have a nightmare..."

He looked over at me with a smirk. "You gonna miss me, Jean?"

"Don't do that..." I huffed, averting my eyes.

"It's only 'till Monday. I'll be back before you know it." He leaned his head on mine.

"You seem a little less reluctant to go home..." I said. He just held my hand, rubbing his thumb over each of my fingers and scarred knuckles. "I knew it, you're just pretending."

"You're right, I _really_ don't wanna go..." He chuckled. He was laughing, but it was just an attempt to stay positive. Me being a pessimistic bastard, I really admired that about him, but at the same time, I worry about it.

A black luxury car pulled up to the curb, and Marco immediately let go of my hand. He glanced at me, and the look in his eyes wanted to apologize, but I understood completely. The driver got out of the car with an umbrella to protect he and Marco from the falling snow.

"I'm terribly sorry for my lateness, Mr. Bodt. I will escort you to the airport."

We both stood, and Marco took his suitcase. Once we got to the backseat of the car, awkwardly under this driver's umbrella, he stopped to face me. The driver rushed to the front.

"Well...I guess I'll see you around, then?" I shrugged, kicking some snow off my boots. He just lunged at me, wrapping his arms around me and holding tight. I turned my head and kissed his cheek. He finally let me go, climbed into the car, and I stepped back to watch them drive away.

* * *

Usually, naps make me feel like shit, but there was no stopping it, since I only got up early to see him off. I still felt his arms around me, but when I glanced at the clock, I realized he must've been on his first class flight by now.

It was lunchtime and my stomach was beginning to sound off for food.  Marco’s only been gone for three hours, but here I am trudging around campus like a lost pup, phone in hand expecting a text I won’t receive until at least a few more hours.  The school building was closed, and TAs weren’t going to be around until Monday.

One would think chaos would ensue, like Halloween night...but the holiday season - namely Thanksgiving - was always a strange time for the Garrison.  More than half of the student body were with their families, and the other half that weren’t made a point to keep their heads down until school returned to normal.  Faction figureheads made sure to keep out of the spotlight, and now that I’m somewhat of a figurehead myself, I fully understand why.  Marco says that I’m a natural leader, and honestly, that was encouraging...but I never did and never will care for all this responsibility, especially when in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t even fucking matter.  It’s a social hierarchy, an unspoken gang mentality, a frivolous food chain everyone seems to want to be at the top of...I just wanted to be left alone.

There was a sudden knock at my door.  “Kirschstein?”

It was Marlowe.  I sighed.  “Come in.”

He entered, that stupid smirk already on his face.  “Before I leave, I’ve got something you’ve been looking for.”

“You gonna sell it to me or somethin’?” I sat up with a stretch.  Not appreciating my sarcasm, he shut the door behind him and dug something out of his pocket.  It was the basement key Kenny stole from the Nerds.

“Where’d you get that..?” my eyes widened.

“TA Gunther’s the easiest to negotiate with. For a small fee, he was happy to sneak into the basement and search the murky depths for this tiny key.” he chuckled.  I scoffed, almost laughing at Marlowe’s shameless bribery.  “Hell, he was even gracious enough to clean it off for me.”

“Small fee, huh?” my eyebrow arched.

“Details, details...” he chuckled with a shrug.  “Armin will appreciate this...maybe enough to stop with the creepy glaring every time you two cross paths.”

“I believe he’s capable of much more than that, but I don’t wanna find out.” I took the key.  “Good lookin’ out, Marlowe.”

He gave me a salute and headed toward my door.  “Well, I’ve a flight to catch. Family’s a little upset about the manor’s damages and insist I meet them in Malibu. See you Monday, Kirschstein!”

 _‘I literally did not ask...’_ I rolled my eyes as he shut the door.  I didn’t bother vocalizing that.  I had to be somewhat thankful.

I was confident getting dressed and walking out of the boys dorm, but once I was in front of the Library, the Nerds' turf, I began to lose my nerve. Was he even on campus? Is it smart to waltz in here alone? Granted, they're a bunch of scrawny nerds, but I knew better to underestimate them, especially if Mikasa was around.

"Fuck it..." I hissed, unable to take much more of the cold.

The library doors slammed shut, and the echo made me flinch. The lights were dimmed, and I realized no one was here. Still, I'd only just gotten here.  I slowly walked past the entrance, scanning the area for any students or at least a librarian.  

"Hello..?" I called. Silence. I wandered closer near the computers, then skulked toward the dark corridors of the bookshelves, when suddenly I heard a loud trigger click.

Something came speeding out at me, thumping me square in the chest. With a breathless wheeze, I went crashing hard onto the floor. My head flopped to the side and I saw the ammo that hit me...it was...a _potato_..?

 _'What the fuck..?!'_ I wheezed as the potato rolled across the library carpet. I clutched my chest, completely in a panic because I'm writhing on the ground with the wind knocked out me, completely clueless as to what or who the hell shot me!

"Amazing, isn't it?" A voice said softly. I was still trying to breathe my way through the pain in my chest, so I couldn't tell who this bastard was yet. Footsteps came closer, and I sat up, propping myself against the library desk.

Armin Arlert stood near the bookshelves, pointing some type of makeshift gun straight at me.

"What the fuck _is_ that..?!" I panted.

"It's a new invention I've been tinkering with. Luckily you walked in, so I got to test it out. It was inspired by that slingshot of yours; you should be proud." He explained. "It's a spud-gun."

"I think you fuckin' broke a rib, man..!" I cried, trying to get myself up. He loaded another potato in the socket.

"Don't be stupid, Jean. I'll show you what a broken rib feels like if you don't stay _right_ there..."

Frozen by his threat, I stared him in those stone cold blue eyes and slowly relaxed myself against the desk. "Okay...potatoes, huh..?"

"Aren't they painful? This weapon is practically useless without them or a similar alternative. Potato ammo is pretty difficult to get...but I've seen how the stoner girl sneaks them out of the kitchen."

I scoffed. "Sasha."

Armin nodded. "Sasha."

I shook my head, changing the subject. "Look, I didn't come here to hurt you."

"I'm supposed to believe that?" He tilted his blonde head.

"I came alone, didn't I?!" I shrieked.

His eyebrow arched. "Did you?"

"You blind or somethin', Coconut-head?" I fidgeted, still clutching the sore spot on my chest.

"I swear to god I'll shoot you right in the face and break your fucking nose, and everyone'll believe me when I say you tripped and fell. Move again." He threatened. Shit. I'm starting to wonder if the helpless nerd everyone bullies and knows as Armin is just an imposter.

"You're a little weird today, Arlert..." I shuddered.

"I have the upper hand and _I'm_ weird?" He scoffed.

"Not what I meant..." I shook my head. I looked at the blonde; he looked exhausted, dark circles were forming around his eyes, and his hair was frizzy with exhaustion.  "Where's Eren and Mikasa..?"

"At Eren's house for dinner." He responded. My eyebrows widened, and he nodded. "Yep. Just the two of them. Eren feels so strongly about her, he took her home with him to meet the parents."

"That bother you..?" I asked. It seemed like everyone had a hunch about Eren and Mikasa /except Armin.

"Bother me? _Please_! I insisted they go..." He relaxed a little. "There's no place for me with either of them..."

Now there are a number of ways in which I could interpret that, but the nature of that trio's relationship - which ever way it went - was none of my business. While I was curious, I had to focus on my interests, which was getting back on his good side for now.

"Look, Armin, I just wanted you to know I was completely careless about your hatred for Thomas, but believe me, he's a changed man!" I tried to reason with him.

"It hasn't yet been proven to me whether or not people _truly_ change..." He sneered. "My faction has a long history of believing these kinds of false promises only to end up pranked, wedgied, swirlied, or worse. We're at the bottom of this chain, Jean, and frankly...I'm tired."

"No, see, _I'm_ tired, too! This whole faction system is stupid to begin with!" I told him. "I don't care about who's on top...I just want my brother."

"And you'll inevitably have to fight your way to the top to have any chance of seeing him, so I don't see what's so different about you." He scoffed. My eyebrows furrowed, because I just didn't want to think of how right he was. The more power I had here, the more likely I had a shot of getting what I wanted.

"I'm sure your reasons are noble, Jean. Everyone's a hero in their own minds." He said. That little statement went off like a bomb in my head. Armin Arlert had a knack for reaching into one's psyche. As much as I wanted to believe I deserved my goal more than anyone deserved theirs, I was no different than the rest.

"Well...would you still say that if I gave you your basement key back?" I asked. Of course he wouldn't, but I didn't have the energy to debate any more.

"I'll let you know when I see it."

I slowly reached into my pocket, staring into those big blue unwavering eyes. He had the spud gun aimed directly at me, ready to fire in case I tried something. I knew better, though. I pulled the key out and waved it in the air. He stood to his feet.

"Toss it to me." He ordered.

I did as he said, and when I thought he would catch it, he fumbled it and let it drop to the floor.

"You tryna pull a fast one on me, wise ass?!" He panicked a bit, jerkily aiming the gun right at me. I flinched, both hands up.

"I tossed it, okay?! I did what you said, you not knowin' how to fuckin' catch ain't my problem!"

He sighed, waving his hand and signaling me to stand up. Since he was calm again, I slowly rose to my feet. I mean, it wasn't a real gun...but a raw potato being shot at you at fifty miles per hour? Been there, done that, and never again.

"To answer your question, Kirschstein, you returning this key only means I won't prioritize destroying you." He conceded.

"What?"

"Don't be so offended. You and me will have to deal with each other again at some point. We both have things we want, after all." He said. I just stood there, silently thinking about how - once again - he was right. I've been trying to get him to trust me for this entire conversation, but he's so far ahead of me, on a completely different plane of thought when it comes to all this.  There was no way we could become allies again, not after I betrayed him once already. As low on the food chain as he was, he couldn't let his faction let me slide on that.

"So that's it, then...I'll leave now." I started walking backward toward the door. He just watched me the entire way. Once I felt by back against the door, he lowered his weapon.

"Hey," he called. I stayed still, listening. He swung the spud gun in his hand, averting my gaze. "If we didn't have to fight, do you think we would've been friends?"

Eventually, I'd have to take Armin down...and when that time comes, he'll have Eren and Mikasa to back him up. I didn't want to force him, but Armin's at the point where he doesn't want to surrender anymore - least of all to me. Still, like all my lackeys so far, we end up genuinely liking eachother, and Armin will be no exception.

"We will be."

I turned and left without another word. I knew he didn't understand, or maybe he did and brushed me off, either way, we'll both come to find out when the time comes.

* * *

On my way back to the dorm, I passed the parking lot near the old school bus. The windows Marco shot rocks through were still broken, and snow began to pile inside. I nuzzled my face into my scarf and crunched through the snow, ready to crawl into my bed.

"Kirschstein," a voice called. I stopped, hearing a car door shut. I turned toward the parked cars, seeing Principal Erwin Smith stroll toward me, pulling the collar of his designer coat up to cover his face from the cold. As he got closer, I noticed blonde peach fuzz growing on his face, dark circles around his eyes, and the coif in his hair was noticeably drooping.

 _'Damn...'_ I tried to keep my face straight and pretend not to notice how messy he looks.

"Come with me." he nodded toward the car.

"Hah..?" I flinched. He looked back at me, as if what he just asked wasn't incredibly strange. "What, you gonna offer me candy or a puppy, creep? My mom warned me against goin' anywhere with strangers."

"I'm hurt you would say that, Jean. You've seen a more... _intimate_ side of me, after all." He responded with a smirk.

"All the more reason for me to not be in a fuckin' car with you." I folded my arms. My face reddened a bit; recording him in such an ‘intimate’ fashion isn’t even fun anymore if he’s gonna just embrace it...

"Please, Jean, if I ever intended to harm you, don't you think I would've done so much earlier without you seeing it coming?" He insisted. I hated how calm and friendly he sounded about it, because he had a - very terrifying - point, but I wasn't about to admit it.

"Where're we going?"

"Mr. Zacharius is meeting me for a drink. We have some things to talk about." He answered. My eyes widened.

"Mike..?"

"Hm, I figured that would get your attention."

Damn right. The last time I saw him, he was desperate to find Nanaba at the Survey Corps. If I didn't check up on him now, when will I ever again?

Mr. Smith's black BMW was warm, and smelled new. I knew the windows were tinted, but I still sunk down in the passenger seat fearing someone would see me driving off campus with my principal.

I slightly turned my head to look at him, just enough where he wouldn't be able to tell I was staring from his peripherals. His piercing blue eyes were fixated on the icy road. Just what was going on in that twisted head of his?

"Did you know we actually used to use that old bus?" He randomly started up. I glanced at him standing beside me, then back at the road.

"The cinder block tires must've given you hell." I hummed. I felt his glare piercing the side of my head. Being a sarcastic shit wasn't much fun without Marco around to snort and punch me in the arm.

"The Garrison began as an ordinary private school for the local children living in the Stohess district. When I was promoted and began working here, I had a vision for this place. I wanted to take the delinquents, the underdogs, the bad boy or girl and make them feel useful. I wanted to show that there is potential in everyone...and for the first few years, it went pretty well...

"I was getting praises from the board of ed, I was called in for interviews and press conferences and before I knew it, my services became something only to be sold to those who could truly afford it...children who were born into wealth and power are the ones who will actually become someone important, right?"

"You sound more like a counselor than a principal with your bleeding heart for the bad seeds..." I said.

"It took a certain bad seed to make me realize that I wasn't doing nearly as much of a good job I thought I was." He started to smile. "He wasn't like me. He grew up on the toughest streets holding his own pretty well for someone of his size..."

I immediately knew he was talking about Vice Principal Ackerman. I've never seen someone look so pitiful without another person, and if I hadn't known that feeling, I wouldn't have pitied him.

"He kept me on the ground whenever I got too optimistic. He made me realize I've completely lost control of this place, as well as myself..."

My eyebrows furrowed with befuddlement, because this was an extremely awkward conversation.   Mr. Smith was trying to tell me that he actually used to be a good person, with a soul, passionate about helping others...I’ve been at the Garrison since the ninth grade, and that still wasn’t far back enough to witness that.  I wanted to believe that he was capable of decency, really, I did...must be Marco’s contagious case of empathy.  I cleared my throat and turned my head to the older man, though I didn't make eye contact.

"Uh...where exactly are you going with this?"

He paused, as if he was trying to find the words. He glanced at me, then back ahead. It was then that I noticed that he was parking the car. It was a pub called the Rose Tavern in the middle of town.

When we got inside, to my surprise, I was let in without any problems. What was particularly off about all this was that it seemed as if we were sneaking around the bar rather than just walking to an available seat. Once we were seated, Mr. Smith ordered a -- for himself and a can of soda for me.

"I want you to know that it was truly a shock to discover your brother in the Survey Corps facility..." He began. I tensed up at the mention of Julz.  "We had nothing to do with him being there."

"You guys sent a lot of other Garrison kids there, right? Including Marco..." I seethed. He closed his eyes, swirling his drink in his hand. "Just what the hell is this anyway? Why even bring up my brother?"

"You seem upset with him." He said.

"It's none of your business." I muttered.

"Look, Kirschstein, you're right. The facility has shut down, and he's nowhere to be found..." He said just before gulping his drink down.  “Now the Garrison will suffer the same fate.”

“What?” I turned my head.  He just downed the rest of his drink before sliding the glass back to the bartender.  I almost laughed.  “You’re shutting down the Garrison?”

He shot me a glare for sounding so excited, and I cleared my throat and tried rephrasing it.  “I mean, you worked so hard…”

“Hmph. Well, in the end, it turned out to be something I no longer cared for. It brought me fame, a modest fortune, a beautiful fiancee...” he tilted his head with a shrug.  I squinted my eyes at that last tidbit, but kept silent.  “I’d be crazy not to just go with the flow and accept this perfect life that fell into my lap, right?”

“If it ain’t perfect to you, that doesn’t make you crazy.” I shrugged, a little surprised I was going along with this conversation.

“Huh. Sounds a lot like something he’d say.” he hummed, staring off into space.  When I turned my head in the direction he was looking in, I realized he was actually looking at someone...it was the Vice Principal.  I gasped, and before I could make any sudden movements, Mr. Smith elbowed me.  “Don’t look so obvious. If he sees us here, he will cause a scene. He’s got nothing to lose anymore.”

Vice Principal Ackerman was leaning on pool stick, and judging from his slight sway, he was pretty tipsy.  He was talking with two other people, a young blonde man, and a redheaded woman in pigtails.  

“Those two are like a brother and sister to him. Farlan and Isabel. They hate the air I breathe...I’m sure now that Levi’s left and licking his wounds, they’re drowning him in alcohol and ‘I told you so’s…” he scoffed with a smirk.  It was hard to tell what Mr. Smith was really feeling behind that strong face of his, but since we’re sneaking around this bar and stalking the Vice Principal, I’d say he’s pretty hurt about all this.

“Not that this is any of my business, sir, but…” I scratched the back of my shaved head.  “You’ve obviously stalked 'im before. Why don’tcha chug some liquid confidence and just talk to ‘im?”

“And risk a slit throat? We aren’t at the Garrison anymore. Levi’s one to act on his threats.” he chuckled, actually charmed by that homicidal trait of his.

“If whatever you guys had was real, he won’t hurt you too bad. He can’t.” I shrugged.  "I mean, he won't kill ya."

I wholeheartedly believe people cannot truly harm those they really loved.  Although it seemed unlikely in their case, I was willing to bet applied to them, too, and it seemed like Mr. Smith believed me.

“You’re so desperate to see the shorty, you brought the _kid_ to the bar he’s at?” a voice broke the silence.  Mike Zacharius took a seat next to me.

“Mike..!” my eyes widened.  He patted my shoulder, and it was then that I saw a blonde kid sit down next to him.  It was Nanaba, his friend from the Survey Corps.  Her blue eyes met mine, and she gave me a nod before looking away.

“I got him a coke.” Mr. Smith gestured his head.  Mike frowned, turning back to Nanaba.

“Want anything?”

“Nah.” she shook her head quietly.  I didn’t take my eyes off her.  Mike seemed content now that he’s found her, but we all knew I had questions for them…

“I think...I’m going to go over there.” Mr. Smith nodded, placing what I believe is his third drink down on the table.

“Erwin,” Mike nervously called after the man, but Mr. Smith had already slid out of his seat and was headed toward the other side of the bar.  Mike was about to stop him, but I took his arm.

“Just a sec, Mike,” I tugged the sleeve of his coat.  “I know you two got somethin’ to tell me about Julz.”

Nanaba’s frown worsened at the mention of his name.  Mike glanced at Erwin approaching Levi and his friends, then back at me.  “You’ve got awful timing, kid.”

“I been involved in that guy’s sob story for too long.” I rolled my eyes.

Mike settled back in his seat, folding his hands over his lap while Nanaba couldn’t even really look at me.  Mike sniffled, breaking the awkward pause.  “I’m afraid I didn’t see your brother, Jean. I found Nanaba at a bus stop headed towards outta town.”

I heard voices rising on the other side of the bar.  “What the fuck are you doing here, you grimy bastard? You following me?”

I directed my attention to the silent blonde, who felt my eyes on her, and finally cracked under the silence.  “I couldn’t look at him anymore...I couldn’t watch anymore…you look so much like him, I can’t even look at you...”

“Levi...won’t you come outside with me? Let’s talk…”

“Nanaba…” Mike placed his hand on her lap.  Her head lowered even further, and when I thought I may not be able to hear her amongst the noise of the bar, it seemed any and all outside noise seemed to simmer down.

“When we left the Corps, Julz had it all figured out, y’know? Moblit and I have no money, so he took care of everything…” she went on.  “He ended up confessing everything to us, his coke dealings with the warden and his addiction...Moblit and I agreed to stick by him and help him through it, but...we were in a different shitty motel almost every other day. After a while, I was convinced he just didn’t wanna get better.”

My eyebrows furrowed trying to process this news.  What about the connection Ymir gave him? Did he throw it away? The fact that he was jumping from one motel to the next only means he was desperately trying not to be found - by me, it seems.

The far end of the bar seemed to get a little louder.  “I’m not going any damn place with you. Tch...you look like hell.”

“Instead of listening to Moblit and my warning against the drugs, he just sold and used behind our backs.” she shook her head.  “If it’s been going on under our noses before at the Corps, his addiction’s gotten stronger, he’s gotten messier…”

My stomach churned.  “He’s...really bad?”

“Hey! You deaf, old man!? My big bro says he doesn’t wanna go anywhere with you! You’re not gonna weasel your way into his life again!” a woman's voice sounded.

“He won’t listen to us. He’s hardly himself anymore…” Nanaba sighed.  “I...always wonder if I did the right thing by just leaving...should I have turned on them and called the cops? He really needs the help, but…”

“No, you did the right thing." I blurted out. They looked at me with befuddled expressions. "I don't wanna get cops involved...not yet...I wanna find him, and talk to him."

Mike gave me a disapproving look. "Jean, I don't think you should--"

"I SAID GET LOST!"

All eyes were directed to the other side of the bar, where Mr. Ackerman's companions had Mr. Smith by the collar while Mr. Ackerman just stood there, folded arms and a frustrated expression.

Mike rushed to diffuse the situation, and Nanaba stood up to gather her things. I scrambled out of the seat and followed her out of the noisy bar.

"Look, Nanaba...um..." I caught up with her heading to Mike's car. She still wasn't able to look at me, and upon realizing that, I lost my train of thought. It just made me wonder about the kinds of things she's seen Julien do...

"How's Marco?" She changed the subject.

"Oh, he's...home for thanksgiving. He'll be back Monday." I replied.

She once again averted her gaze. "Hm."

She perked up once she saw Mike walking out of the bar and dragging a slightly inebriated Erwin Smith on his arm.

"You need a ride, Jean?" Mike asked.

"You were right, Kirschstein." Mr. Smith called. "He still feels something for me...he didn't even try to kill me..!"

"Why would he when his friends'll do the job for him? You're a goddamn mess, Erwin..." Mike hissed.

I almost laughed seeing my principal like this. I looked over at Mike hauling Mr. Smith into his car. "I'll just walk back."

"No way...I can't let a child walk these streets alone...he's my responsibility..." Mr. Smith grumbled before Mike shut the car door. I rolled my eyes and stuck my freezing hands in my coat.

"Y'know, we...we left the corps with just the clothes on our backs..." Nanaba said, her hand on the passenger door. "Julz blew a lot of his money on drugs but...I hope he and Moblit remembered to keep warm..."

Nanaba climbed into the car, adjusting her scarf. Mike must have gotten her a new wardrobe when he found her. I frowned, because I was starting to worry, but I had a realization.

"Julien'll freeze to death before he lets someone else get cold. There's no way he'd let your other friend suffer."

"Yeah, Julz wouldn't...but the person he's becoming...I dunno what _he's_ willing to do." She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jean."

Her window rolled up, and she leaned back. I just stepped away from the car, taking one last look at Mike. He sniffled, tugging his collar up.

"I'll see you around then, Jean."

"Will you?" I said softly. I couldn't tell if he didn't hear me or just didn't have a response. Either way, I wasn't seeing him again for a long time, or maybe ever again.

The walk back to the dorm was lonely, and freezing fucking cold. Part of me thought that maybe I should have taken that ride back, but most of me knew I was in danger of crying, and I didn't want to risk that in front of all those people. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that it was close to 9:30. Marco had to be home by now. I sent him a quick text: _You home yet?_

After a couple minutes, I saw that he was typing, then he wasn't. Suddenly, he was calling. I immediately answered.

"Marco..."

"Hey Jean," his sweet voice sounded in my ear. "Sorry, I got in maybe an hour ago, but I had to have dinner with my parents and whatever..."

"No, no, it's okay...I just..wanted to make sure." I said. A pause followed, and only the sounds of my boots crunching through the ice and snow could be heard.

"What's wrong?" He asked. A million different bullshit answers came to mind, but lying to keep him from worrying was just pointless.

I told him everything; about Marlowe finding the key, my run in with Armin, the admins, Mike and Nanaba, and of course, Julz. I was pretty heated, even in this freezing weather, but Marco's soothing voice kept me calm as I walked through the dim streets.

"Ugh, all that and I've only been gone for ten hours..." He sighed. "What're you gonna do now?"

What _can_ I do? With school out, there's no way I can track down Ymir to ask her about Julz..."

"There's no way she'd tell you, either." He hummed.

"You're right..." I blinked. I immediately thought back to what Armin said to me hours before. I'm no different from him, Ymir, or anyone else running a faction here. "We all have something we want..."

Marco paused, possibly trying to catch up with my thought process. "Well...what do we have that Ymir wants?"

"Honestly, nothing." I frowned. As I wandered into the boys dorm, I started to feel hopeless.  I knew next to nothing about Ymir, other than the little Julz would tell me about her.  I was too involved with the Preps - her mortal enemy - for her to trust me.  After Julz was taken away, Ymir continued not to give a shit about me or anything I did, and refused to bother me here out of respect for Julz.  I had no idea how to even approach her...

"Sure we do. We have Historia!"

My eyes widened with sudden realization.   _That_ is the one thing Ymir wants more than anything...except, we don't actually know where she is. "No we don't..."

"As if she actually has to know that. We're wondering where she ran off to as well, right? We just gotta find her before Ymir does." Marco explained. I thought it over a moment, then smiled to myself at his strategy.  Hitch was Historia's most trusted friend, after all, she had to be more in the loop more than any of us.

"Have I ever told you how attractive you are when you talk like that?"

"You _could_ say it more often." He chuckled. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...I really can't wait to get back on campus."

I slowed down a little after hearing that. "Hey, Freckles..." I honestly couldn't wait, either.

"Yeah, Jean?" He hummed. The degree to how much harder this shit was when Marco wasn't around was staggering, and if being my moral compass wasn't enough, I just fucking missed his presence. I wanted to say it, but I changed my mine in admitting it.

"Nothin'. Just gonna be a long weekend."

"You're tellin' me...jeez, did you make it to the room yet? Hurry up, it's late and way too cold."

My freckled angel refused to hang up until I was safe and sound in our bedroom.  Usually, I found it annoying when people kept tabs on me like that, but it was cute when Marco did it.  It was like I was sinking deeper into the bed upon realizing how big it was with just me in it.  I found myself thinking about a lot as we talked on and on about nothing...particularly how hot and heavy we were getting last night.  His sounds, his touches...I cursed myself and that damn nosebleed for scaring him off I glanced over at my nightstand, seeing it partially open and the condom wrappers inside, glinting from the light.

"Ugh..." I groaned, thinking even though we didn't have protection that time, we didn't have to go all the way...that was a side of Marco I needed to see again, and soon.

"Jean?" he called, snapping me out of my lewd thoughts.  "What're you doing?"

"Nothin'! Uh, nothin'...just...thinking of stuff..." I cleared my throat, actually glad he wasn't here to see how red I was.

"Huh. Well, it's late. I'm gonna turn in." he said.

"Oh, yeah, yeah...I'll talk to you later, then." I said.

"Night, Jean!"

"Night, Freckles."

I sighed, just laying there on my bed, watching the snow fall outside.  After a long pause, the buzz of my phone distracted me from my frustration. It was my mother trying to Facetime.  I sat up, actually wanting to be a little presentable, else I wouldn’t hear the end of it.  When I accepted the call and saw her smiling face, a half smile tugged at my lips.

"Jean!" She beamed.

"How are you, Jean-y?" my father popped his head over her shoulder.

"Long time no speak, guys." I offered a half smile.

"Yeesh, calm down there, Jean-y, don't be so excited to talk to us!" My father gasped sarcastically.

"It's only been - what, a few months since I last heard from you? How could I _not_ be jumping for joy?" I shot back. The gift of sarcasm is inherited.

"Stop it, you two." Mom scolded. "Jean, you gotta understand, we've been extremely busy with running the casino, your father's law firm is getting a little crazy, and to top it off, _your_ trouble at the Garrison!"

"I had a long talk with Mr. Smith about your progress and it’s dwindled quite a bit since you started hanging out with a certain Marco Bodt.” Dad said sternly.  “To think, the son of Sina broadcasting’s CEO attended this school...and is such a bad influence!”

“He’s not, okay? Most of what happened was my idea…” I rolled my eyes.  "Look, did you two really FaceTime me for this? Did ya really wanna see the look on my face when you lecture me?"

"Tone down the sass, will ya?" Dad groaned.

"Something else has come up and we believe you should know." Mom sighed. "Your brother..."

My eyes met theirs, and they realized they had my full attention. Dad rubbed his creased forehead. "Boy's gonna be the death of me, with all the trouble he's gettin' into."

"So you realize Julz is pretty much a missing person now?" I asked. They didn't respond. My tone became harsher. "Julien. _Your son_."

"He ain't acting like it..." Dad grumbled.

"That doesn't mean you get to quit acting like a Dad!" My voice rose.

"We've done all we can for Julien and his poor lifestyle choices, Jean. Something's gotta give..!" Mom whimpered.

"Mom, he has a _problem_. He needs _help_. I can't do this on my own, okay? We gotta help 'im!" I felt my face getting hot.

Seeing my parents' disapproving faces caused my eyes to swell. I didn't want this for Julz; I didn't want to accept our own parents were giving up on him.

My father sighed, as tried to reason with me. "Jean, listen--"

"No, _you_ listen!" I cut him off. "Go ahead and give up on 'im! I'll do right by him...just like he did for me."

"Jean-y..." Mom pleaded right before I ended the call.  I just plopped back onto the bed, the phone flopped elsewhere.  I put my arm over my face and breathed deeply.  Tears were threatening to fall, but I couldn’t let myself go, not right now.  I had to be strong, because with the way Julz has become, it won’t be easy to help him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fully believe in polyamorous EreMikArmin. I fully believe in brotp EruMike. I fully believe Isabel and Farlan would hate Erwin in an AU. This was just a shameless about of headcanons. Anyway, things at the Garrison has slowed down a lot now that most of the school is enduring Thanksgiving away. Stay tuned for Marco's adventures at home!


	21. Intended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco thinks his Thanksgiving can't get any worse...then it does.

Marco

Thanksgiving is every teenager's worst nightmare; An already messed up holiday becoming even more so with the tradition of forcibly eating and conversing with your judgemental family. I spent most of the night talking to Jean, but sadly, we had to say goodbye.

"Marco, honey?" A knock came at my door before it opened. My mother, Liliana Bodt strolled into my room. "Who were you talking to?"

"My best friend." I answered, closing my laptop.

"Best friend?" Her eyebrows arched. I smirked, thinking that although I wasn't really 'out' yet, it was a relief that the best friend title wasn't exactly a cover up. Mom continued. "You were so reluctant to go to that school and now you've got a best friend! You've _got_ to tell me about him."

"I know..." I chuckled softly. "He's Jean Kirschstein. He's the heir to that casino in Trost you and Dad visit all the time."

Mom gasped, dramatically putting her hands to her face. "Renee Kirschstein told me about a son, but she never said he went to that school!"

My smile faltered a little, because Jean's mother mentioned _one_ son, but not another. "Well, who'd want anyone to know that? That place is awful."

"Awful, is it? Well you've sure done all you can to make it that way." Another voice chimed in. My stepfather, Marcel stood at my doorway with his arms crossed. "It's intended to help you, son."

"Help me? You don't understand, dad, that place is..!" I tried to explain, but he held his hand up to silence me.

"I don't want to hear it, Marco! There is nothing about that school that could possibly possess you to do the things you've done there!"

I just sat there, flabbergasted. "You..you don't have a clue!"

"And I'm not sure I'm alright with you being around this Kirschstein kid. I've been told every single one of your infractions were because of him. He's a bad influence on you." Dad said. I rolled my eyes, because Jean being a bad influence could possibly be the _only_ accurate thing he's said all night. Still, I wasn't about to let this go.

"It's an alternative boarding school, Dad. Every kid there broke the law to some degree, and even though they're rich enough not to pay actual consequences, they're still ruthless. Everyone's got an agenda and the administration aren't any better! The things I could _tell_ you about that damn Erwin Smith..!" I huffed.

"Don't use that tone or that language here! Mr. Smith is a good man!" Mom scolded me.

"Look...Jean looked out for me from the moment you dumped me there..." I said softly, turning my head and folding my arms. An uncomfortable pause loomed over my room, and my stepfather came a little closer.

"The last instance of you having a 'close friend' like that, it turned out to be...something else..." Dad said lowly, almost accusingly. My mother took a moment to stare at me, and once she did, I started to feel hot from nervousness.

My first love, the catalyst to my enrollment in the Garrison haunted me and seemed to hang over not just my head, but also my parents. They're only recently getting over the "embarrassment". They're looking at me now with the most disapproving expressions, and I don't want to put up with this...but I don't want to deny Jean.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I glared at him, keeping my voice calm.

He knew I knew exactly what he meant. He just shook his head and turned around to leave. I stood to my feet to chase after him, but my mother grabbed my hand.

"Stop it, Marco. He walked away, now let it go."

I took my arm back. "Why can't you ever just side with me on anything or atleast acknowledge how it makes me feel?!"

She quickly exhaled with eyes closed, completely exasperated. "I know you're upset, honey, I know. You must understand, its not easy for us to take in this lifestyle you're getting yourself into..."

My eye was beginning to twitch from anger. I threw my hands in the air. "It's not a _choice_ , Mom!"

She flinched a little, then shut her eyes again, as if she was beginning to lose patience here. She stood up, taking me by the shoulders. "Please, Marco, let's just drop this. We didn't bring you home to feel this way. We're going to have a good Thanksgiving before you go back."

 _'I wanna go back now...'_ I averted my eyes, still trying to calm down.

"We're going to work through this, okay?" She kissed my forehead. "I'm very glad to see you."

With that, she exited my room, probably thinking she handled it well.  "Work through this"? Like being gay is some kind of phase? I just fell back into my bed, not bothering to unpack anything. That exchange completely drained me, and I was reluctant to find out how the rest of this trip would test my limits.

Things like these made me think of my mother's family, and how they were doing. Despite having money, wealth, and power, the happiest I've ever been prior to being with Jean was probably in my grandmother's house with all my cousins. Unfortunately, the last time I saw my mother's family was at her private wedding to my stepfather...ten years ago. She'll never admit it, but Mom doesn't exactly like associating with her nowadays. A call on the holidays here and there is her version of still keeping in touch...although, times like these, thoughts of looking her up always cross my mind.

Right now, I just wanted to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up late and waste the day, which will bring me closer to leaving again.

_Later that night..._

__

I was back there, in the psyche ward of the Survey Corps. Hazy shots of the brightly-lit rooms flashed through my brain, distant shouts and screams of the patients seeped through the stained walls of the ward.

My body began to itch with anxiety, and when I tried moving to relieve myself, my arms were bound. It was then that I started to panic, and it seemed that the more I struggled, the tighter the straps got on my wrists.

The screaming beyond my room seemed to get louder, and I'd give anything to press my palms against my ears to drown out the sound, but I felt I was beginning to lose circulation in my arms, and my head was about to explode.

With a sudden gasp, I was in my room again. Pitch black, with nothing but the sound of my heavy breathing. A chill hit me once I realized I was coated in a light sweat. I shakily reached for my phone on the charger on my nightstand, and saw that it was about 4:30 in the morning.

"Shit..." I sighed, still trying to calm myself down. I scrolled through my limited contacts, and found Jean. It was about 1:30 in Stohess, but with every ring that went by, the more nervous I was becoming.

"Hello?"

"Jean..." I tried my hardest not to sound shaky.

"Marco...it's like the crack of satan's ass over there, what're you doing up?" He perked up upon hearing my tone. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"Crack of satan's ass..." I snorted, feeling much calmer with his ridiculous expressions. He exhaled, and I knew he wouldn't say anything else until I acknowledged my problem. I turned over on my side, curling up a little. "Alright, yeah...I had another dream about that place..."

"What d'you dream about? Can you tell me?" He asked. I frowned, not really wanting to, but he spoke again. "Please, Marco."

Jean Kirschstein never said _please_ , after all. I took a deep breath and confessed my strange dreams, and how they were manifestations of the nightmare I was actually _living_ the past month. I told him everything I was hiding about the Survey Corps: The early mornings, the ice baths, the ankle bracelet, the electric fence, the sedatives, and the bed strapping.

"Why didn't you tell me..?" He asked softly. "I had...no idea that bullshit was happening..."

"What could you do? You've already done so much." I cracked a smile.

"I woulda raised way more hell! I woulda..! I woulda done _something_!" He grumbled. I chuckled, rubbing my tired face. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing.” I smiled. _'I'm just still baffled at how much you care...'_ “Why’re you still up?”

“School’s out for the week and hardly anyone’s here. I ain’t got much else to do.” he said.  “Hey, I’ll stay with you ‘til you fall asleep.”

“What if you fall asleep first?” I asked, staring out my large window.

“I won’t.” he assured me.  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.  I couldn’t even imagine how miserable I would be dealing with all of this without someone.  Hell, even if I had just anyone, I’m certain they wouldn’t be nearly as understanding as Jean is.  I heard music playing from his end, and I closed my eyes.  “You like The Cure?”

“Who doesn’t!” I whisper-shouted, careful of how late it is at my place.

“People who haven’t heard of ‘em, for starters.” he scoffed.

“You are such a hipster, Jean…” I snickered.

“Am not!” he protested.  I just laughed it off, letting him have it.  

I started humming ‘A Letter To Elise’ that was playing, and he sat in silence, listening to my humming.  The dark that seemed so frightening when I woke up was only that; darkness, only much more peaceful with the sound of our favorite band and his voice in my ear.  Since music was playing, he must’ve been on his laptop, which lead me to assume he was blogging.

“Question, how many people follow your art blog?”

“Like, five thousand, basically no one.” he snorted.

“Five thousand people isn’t enough followers?” I exclaimed.

“You don’t blog, so you don’t get it.” he said simply.

“Fine, I’ll start a blog, too.” I sneered.  He scoffed at that, only encouraging my idea.

“You’d be a animal blog for sure…specifically cats.”

“That sounds fun!” I gasped, prompting a hopeless groan from him in response.  I turned in bed, resting on my stomach and closed my eyes to listen to his breathing.

“Can I ask you somethin’, Marco?” he broke the silence.  “What kinda person was your mom before she married your dad?”

Loaded question.  I opened my eyes, adjusting myself on my bed.  “We lived with my grandmother...well, atleast, I did. My grandma took care of me and a few other cousins that stayed with her while their parents worked. The difference was that my cousins had a home to go to at the end of the day...I slept in my grandma’s livingroom, haha…”

“Your mom didn’t live with you?” he asked.

“She was a live-in maid and nanny, she mostly stayed with my stepdad’s family. She hung out with me on the weekends, though.” I said, remembering my childhood spent in my grandmother’s tiny apartment.  “After Mom got engaged...she took me into this huge house and...I didn’t see much of my grandma after that…”

Jean paused, and I thought that maybe this got a little too heavy too quickly...but he seemed to want to know more.  “D’you miss her?”

“All the time!” I exclaimed.  “I mean...my mom doesn’t really let us interact much other than on holidays...she’s the only one who really cared about me...besides you, I mean.”

"You never thought about goin' to see her or something?" Jean asked.

"Yeah...but not really..." I answered softly.

"Yeah, but not really?" He repeated.  I know, stupid answer, but I wasn’t very good at communicating how I felt at the moment.

"She's better off if I stay outta her way..." I just left it at that.

The truth is that I'm afraid of reaching out to her. I went off to become the heir to a multi-million dollar network, I was no longer her little grandson. It's like Mom forgot all her love and support once we were granted this new life, what if Grandma was angry?

"No ones better off without _you_ , Freckles." Jean snapped me out of my thoughts.  "I mean, lookit me! my plan was to just lay here 'til you get back..."

I snickered, blushing a bit at his statement. "I refuse to believe you're that hopeless..."

"My pride's the only thing keepin' me from confessing just how gross and hopeless I actually am."

"Gross, huh?" I arched an eyebrow.

"You ever like someone so much...it just starts to disgust you?" He said.

"Can't say I felt _disgusted_ , but..." I tried to keep my laughter down. Jean's analogy was awful, but I understood his meaning. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since I got here, and with how much we've talked and texted, it's as if I never left. Here I am giggling like a little girl at every little thing he says...he's right, it's pretty gross.

"You know I'm right."

“I’m flattered, I guess.” I rubbed my eyes.

“You better be!”

I laughed into my blanket, trying to muffle any noise from outside.  I let out a yawn, burying half my face into my pillow.  “Lucky is more like it.”

“Eh?”

I smiled, ignoring the blush on my face.  “I’m definitely lucky...to have you.”

There was a pause, and I tried to be cool about what I just said, mostly because I was absolutely certain he was convulsing with embarrassment on the other end.  “You’re not allowed to call me corny ever again. Not after that.”

I just breathed out, smiling harder than ever.  Hey, whatever, I don’t care how corny I sound; I meant what I said.  Jean Kirschstein is the best thing in my life right now.  I always knew that, but there was just something about lying awake in the dark after a horrific nightmare that made me hyper aware of it.

To think, we began as unlikely friends just trying to survive the school year watching each other’s backs...and now I can’t imagine life after the Garrison without him.

 

I think I love him.

The sunlight shined through my window and onto my face, waking me up. I glanced at my phone on my pillow, seeing that it was two in the afternoon.  I don’t even remember hanging up with Jean, or even falling asleep.  I had to remind myself he wasn't around to wake me up.

I trudged out of bed and left my room, headed down my long hallway and down the stairs. I gave the housekeepers a nod and made my way to the kitchen. My mother sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. Once she saw me come in, she flashed a bright grin.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead! Happy thanksgiving!"

"Thanks, you too..." I murmured as she kissed my cheek, still trying to wake up. "Where's Dad?"

"He had to pick up a friend from the airport. They'll be back by tonight." She ruffled my hair.

"They?" I blinked.

"Yes, they're coming to spend Thanksgiving with us! Exciting, right?" She beamed.

Yeah... _very_ exciting, considering we only ever spend Thanksgiving strictly with family.  Just who were these "friends" Dad had coming?

"Don't eat too much, Marco. You gotta leave some room for tonight. There's going to be a lot to take in, and I'm not talking about the turkey!" She chuckled. I made a face at the joke, and remembered there was a "surprise" she told me about before I came home. Was it the guests? Or something else? Either way, I didn't have a good feeling about it at all.

That night, I was in my room, skyping Jean before the big feast. I showed him my large room, my king sized bed, bathroom and walk-in closets, and he just showed me that he cleaned up our room since I left.

"Room looks a lot bigger now that all your junk's outta the way."

I rolled my eyes. "I'd better be able to find things when I get back..."

He offered me a smile and studied me as I fixed my hair in the camera. "Gotta dress up for dinner too, huh?"

"My parents say that this time, it's pretty important. It must be, considering we don't spend time with anyone outside the family on thanksgiving." I said. "I'm a little worried..."

"It's probably nothin'." He shrugged.

"Young master, your parents wanted me to tell you that the guests have arrived. You should join us, quickly." A housekeeper peered inside my open door.

"Oh, okay. Thanks." I gave her a nod, standing closer in front of the camera to hide who I was talking to.

“‘Young Master’?” Jean snorted.

“Ten years and I’m still not used to them calling me that.” I shot him a look.

“You’re tall, tan, fine as hell and richer than me...I think I hit the jackpot.” he rested his face on his palm.

"Good _bye_ , Jean." I made a face at him. He laughed and let me go. I fixed my dress shirt and headed downstairs.

Every single year, my stepfather's family join us for the holidays, and it was the absolute worst. Not only did they hate me, but they hated my mother, too, and sometimes made a point in showing it. Usually, Mom wouldn't be too excited about these things, either, but this time around, she was surprisingly cheeky. When I got into the den, my step-grandparents sat near the fireplace, glaring over at me with those smug old wrinkly faces.

"Marco, dear...why, look how much you've grown." My step-grandmother, Erys stood up to take a look at me.

"It's good to see you, grandma." I pasted on a smile, ignoring the fact that she says this every single time she sees me...which is every few months.

"Erys is fine, dear." She cleared her throat, waving me away once I moved it for a hug. I frowned, dropping my extended arms at my side. Why did I even bother? I looked at my step-grandfather, doing his best to ignore me, as he did most of my life. He stared at the fireplace with a scowl, stirring his glass of scotch.

"Oh my, is that Marco?" A voice called. I looked over, seeing my dad's little sister, my aunt Lisandre. She was probably the only one in the family who wasn't cruel to me...you know, not _as_ cruel. She gave me a short hug and took a look at me. "It's amazing, you could actually pass for Marcel's son! Haha!"

I didn't respond, I was too busy trying not to look slighted.

"Leave the boy alone, Lisa. He's probably exhausted from all the physically demanding manual labor he's done in that disciplinary school." Dad's older brother, Trystan chimed in. He clapped me on the back and tilted his head. "They made you do push ups and all sorts of humiliating things, right?"

"Not exactly, Uncle Trystan." I shook my head, averting my gaze.

"It's not a military school, dad. He wouldn't last a day in there." My cousin Scott scoffed from the couch. I saw him playing a handheld game, glaring back at me. Scotty and I never got along as kids; he only saw me as just another poor boy, and that never seemed to change.  He's a year older than me and insanely jealous of my father's fortune being left to outsiders like me and my mother, and always made fun of my freckles despite having them, too.

"Alright, that's enough. We can all catch up over dinner." Dad entered the room. With him was a small family - a mother, father, and daughter around my age - I'd never seen before, possibly the friends Mom mentioned. When Dad saw me, he pulled me away from the family.

"Marco! I want you to meet someone." He had his hand at my back. "This is Joe Carolina, a big time producer who's gonna be working with our network."

"Uh, hey, good to meet you." I shook his hand awkwardly.

"Likewise. This is my wife, Nicki, and our daughter, Mina." He gestured to a cute girl with raven hair styled in two ponytails. Mina held my hand with both of hers, and the way the adults were watching creeped me out a little, but I dismissed it as nerves and ignored it.

"Pleasure."

"Why don't you show Mina to the guest room, Marco?" Dad suggested. My eyes widened; they were _staying_ with us? That reaction seemed to put them off a little. I quickly back pedaled and linked Mina's arm with mine.

"Sure! Definitely..!"

My extended family watched as Mina and I headed upstairs, the maids trailed behind us, carrying her luggage.

"So, Marco," she began, holding tightly to my arm. "You go to The Garrison, right? Is it true delinquents go there? Like, rich ones?"

"I uh...guess you can say that." I shrugged.

"What did you do?" She giggled, coming closer. I glanced away, letting my arm go limp so she would let go. She realized I didn't want to talk about it and dropped it.

"Sorry, maybe some other time."

"Here's your room." I opened the door to the guest room beside mine. She finally let go of me to check out her space. Judging from her smile, she was satisfied. "We don't usually have guests stay over, so...I'm happy you like it."

"I love it." She smiled. The maids dropped off her luggage and exited the room, leaving us completely alone. "Are you happy to be back?"

 _'Not in the slightest...'_ I wanted to say, but I pasted on a smile and nodded.

"I'm sure your parents missed you." She hummed.

 _'Yeah right.'_ I huffed.

"Boarding school seems so different...have you made a lot of friends?" She inquired.

I was reminded of Jean and how much I missed him, Thomas and his boys, even Marlowe, Hitch, and the other Preps. "Surprisingly...yeah..."

"Surprisingly?" She giggled. "That's good. I'm homeschooled, so I don't have a lot of friends..."

"It's good to have friends, but it's better to have people you actually trust." I said, wondering how Jean was holding up.

"There was one..." She smiled, sitting on the guest bed. I quietly went to join her. "My father was working on a documentary for war veterans. He was interviewing this family who were born from a long line of war heroes...Wolfgang Leonheardt was the man's name."

Something went off in my head the second I heard Leonheardt...still, I let her finish in case I was mistaken.

"I got to stay on the base while my father worked. There was a girl I met there...she had a rough personality, but we clicked instantly. Her name was Annie..."

I jerked my head toward her, eyes wide. I knew I _couldn't_ be mistaken. "Annie Leonheardt?!"

She looked at me, taken aback from my reaction. "You've heard of her?"

"She goes to my school!"

Mina gasped, cupping her hand over her mouth. "You can't be serious..!"

"Didn't you know she's been at the Garrison?" I inquired.

"I was there when she was taken away, but no one would tell me where. That whole ordeal was a disaster..." She said solemnly.

My thoughts flashed back to my first couple days at the Garrison, where Jean showed me around the school and informed me of the faction figureheads.  Annie was sent there for armed robbery, I heard. How did a badass like Annie and a sweetheart like Mina become friends?

"Don't worry, I'll definitely let her know you're looking for her." I assured her.

"Would you? Thank you so much, Marco..!" She lunged at me in a hug. My eyes widened from this response, and I was even more curious of their relationship. She pulled away and locked eyes with me. "Please promise you won't mention any of this to our parents. Things didn't end well the last time I saw Annie, you know?"

 _'No, but I wanna know...'_ I blinked. I just nodded. "Trust me, your secret's safe."

She smiled, hugging me again. I patted her back with a small smile. Even if we don't find out where Historia is, Mina is our true key to allying with the Burnouts. If I reunite Annie and Mina, there's no reason why she _shouldn't_ help us track down Julien.

"We're going to work just fine..." Mina said softly. My eyebrows furrowed. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but when we broke the hug, one of the maids appeared in the doorway, knocking on the door.

"Dinner's ready."

"Great, then. Shall we?" Mina stood first, totally chipper.

When we got downstairs, there were two empty seats at the table that seemed to be meant for the two of us to sit next to each other. Our parents watched us closely; my father in particular was smiling.

"You two seem to be getting along well."

I glanced at all my family members staring. "Um--"

"Very! I enjoy Marco's company a lot." Mina smiled. As we sat down, I couldn't help but notice how pleased our parents seemed to hear that.

"Without further delay, let's dig in!"

Strange as it is, I'm a little glad Mina and her family joined us for Thanksgiving. I'd suffer much less shady comments from my father's family. With Annie as our common denominator, Mina seemed to become much more comfortable with me, and this didn't go unnoticed by our parents. As the adults were lost in their idle chatter, I texted Jean under the table. Mina was right next to me, and I was so used to being at the Garrison - were I didn't have to hide - I completely forgot. I felt her eyes burning into my hands as I froze in the middle of a text to the boy with the heart-eyed emojis next to his name.

 _"I kinda wanna pick up where we left off that night...y'know, before all that awkward shit with the nosebleeds and Ms. Hanji's condoms..."_ His latest text appeared, and just when I thought Mina caught on, she just looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, trying not to appear too nervous.

"Well, everybody, as you may know, Marcel and I have a huge surprise." Mom clinked her glass of wine with a utensil. All eyes turned to my parents sitting together at the end of the large table.

"Couldn't be a bigger surprise than your marriage..." Uncle Trystan mumbled. Aunt Lisa elbowed him, afraid the guests would hear that.

My mother, completely glowing with delight stood up and placed her hand to her stomach. "As of last month, Marcel and I are expecting!"

I nearly choked on my sparkling cider. Mina patted my back and I tried my hardest to ignore cousin Scotty's shit-eating grin. If Mom wanted shock value, she got it all, from the entire family. The only reason the mood wasn't completely awkward and silent was because of Mina's family offering their sincerest congratulations. Eventually, dad's family picked up on clapping and congratulating.

"Why, that's...um, that's pretty good news..!" Aunt Lisa nodded, as if she was trying to convince herself.

"Seems you got some competition now, don't you, cousin?" Scotty snickered, picking at his plate.

I shot him a glare, knowing full well that although our unwitting guests saw it as a joke, immediate family knew that this baby just might be the end of me. Now that Dad has an actual heir with his own flesh and blood, there was no need for me...

"Not anytime soon, he won't. Marco can keep the little tyke's seat warm until he comes of age and can take over the company himself." Grandma Erys chuckled, total malice behind that harmless chuckle.

"Instead of these distasteful jokes, why not discuss the baby shower?" Dad cleared his throat, cutting the tension a little.

"Oh we have plenty of time before all that!"

As they chattered on about the pregnancy and all that came with it, I just sat quietly in my seat in front of my empty plate, waiting to be excused and get the hell out of here. I knew Mina could sense how restless I felt, but I couldn't really bring myself to care at the moment. I wasn't sure what was making me so uneasy: the news of Mom's pregnancy or the fact that my future was hanging by a thread now.

* * *

I somehow survived the end of the night, and it was probably texts from Jean keeping me from losing my head.  I gave him a complete play by play of the uncomfortable dinner: my aunt and uncle’s snide comments, my cousin’s annoying snickers and stares, my step-grandparents’ condescending looks, and my father’s blatant blind eye to it all.  When I skype him tonight, he’ll be completely filled in and ready to make me feel better in no time...I just had to wait until mom showed everyone out.

“Thanks for coming!” she grinned, waving beside my father.

“Congrats again, Liliana. It’s amazing you’re willing to take on another child at your age.” Aunt Lisa chuckled.

“Um, well, I’m...only thirty-six, Lisa…” Mom chuckled nervously.

“Oh that’s right! I forget you weren’t that old when you had that one over there.” Lisa chirped, glancing at me, brooding near the stairs.  Mom awkwardly cleared her throat, not having a tasteful comeback for that one.  When did she ever?

“Congrats, big man! I’ll be happy to babysit every once in a while.” Uncle Trystan clapped dad on the shoulder.  I scoffed to myself, remembering how detached from my life he’s always been...but what can I expect? He isn’t related to me by blood, why should he care about me at all?

“Erys, Watson, thank you for coming. I’ll see you this Christmas!” Mom forced a hug onto my dad’s parents.  They stiffly patted her back and pulled away, ready to leave.  I looked over at Mina, wondering if she found any of my family’s awkward interactions with me strange.  She seemed pretty unbothered, or possibly distracted? She kept looking my way, smiling and taking every opportunity to crack a joke in hopes of lifting my spirits.

 

Of course, I was the first to turn in.  I threw my phone on the bed and headed for the shower.  I needed to think.  My father had to continue grooming me to run the company; I’m headed to college in two years and dad’s not getting any younger waiting for his _legitimate_ child to grow up.  When he or she does, however...where will that leave me..?

When I turned off the shower, I heard voices outside the bathroom door.  Someone was in my room..?

“I believe everybody who’s _everybody_ has been to your family’s casino. I’ve been to Trost a few times and I’ve only seen the outside of it...it’s huge!”

“It ain’t so big once you’re inside. I’ll be practically living in it when I reach my twenties.”

That was Mina and Jean..! I swung the bathroom door open, seeing Mina in front of my laptop. She jerked her head toward me, arching her eyebrows at me dripping wet in my towel.

"M-Mina..!"

"Hi, Marco!" She grinned. She turned my laptop, and I saw a smirk appear on Jean's face once he saw me half naked and wet.

"Hello..."

"Jeez..." I rolled my eyes. I headed to my walk-in closet, ignoring their laughing.

"You two are roommates and have classes together and everything...that's every couple's dream!" Mina exclaimed. My eyes widened, and my towel dropped to the floor. My door wasn't closed and Jean got a full view of me over Mina's shoulder. Before he could react, I quickly swung the door shut.

I had to calm myself down. I had to remind myself that it doesn't matter if Mina knows about us, I just can't let her tell anyone else.  I threw on some pajama bottoms and a shirt and went to join them.

“Marco! Jean was just telling me of how Annie’s got his handsome older brother wrapped around her little finger.” Mina huffed.  I glanced down, seeing a picture Jean sent of Julien, as well as the smirk on Jean’s face.  “Annie sure was something. She had so many boys chasing after her, but it’s like she saw right through them.”

Jean rested his hand on his palm.  “Yeah, I guess once you get past the ice cold personality and dead eyes, she’s pretty cute.”

“She’s really a sweetheart when you get to know her.” Mina told us.  “If I do get in touch with her again, I’m a little nervous…”

“Who wouldn’t be nervous interacting with her?” Jean muttered.

“Jean…” I squinted my eyes at him, then turned back to Mina.  “Why? I think she’d love to hear from you.”

“It’s...totally my fault she got sent away…”

Jean and I fell silent, trying not to stare too hard at her hanging her head low.  Jean looked away, trying to make it seem like he was doing something else.  Tears were awfully close to falling, but she quickly collected herself, clearing her throat and sitting up straight.

“Can I...ask what happened..?” I asked softly.

“I’m sorry, Marco, but...maybe when we get to know eachother a little better, I’ll tell you if you absolutely have to know.” she answered.  Jean and I glanced at eachother, then back at Mina, ten times more intrigued with how this situation was unfolding.  Mina pasted on a smile, possibly feeling bad for souring the mood.  “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your other friends at the Garrison, maybe I’ve heard of them.”

The sudden change in subject let us know that whatever history she and Annie had was deep, and personal.  Though it was awkward, I rolled with the change.

“W-Well...there’s this lovable guy by the name of Thomas…”

Jean scoffed.  “ _Lovable_. How many times has that guy tried to kill us..?”

Our conversation beyond that point was relatively light.  We told her all about the cliques, the TAs, and only a _little_ about the administration.  Had we confessed all this to some other rich kid who didn’t attend the Garrison, we’d feel completely alienated...but Mina was so easy to talk to about all this.  It went on so long, we didn’t even realize how late it got.

Mina turned, yawning into her elbow, and Jean took that cue to say goodnight. I was more concerned about the fact that my parents walked in on Mina and I in our pajamas - sitting so close together _on_ _my bed_ \- and seemed more...excited than anything else.

"Welp, I'll let you go. Must be late." Jean sighed. He looked over at Mina, giving a half smile. "Don't worry, if I see Annie around, I'll mention you."

"You're both so sweet." Mina looked at us both.  Hell, she’s the sweet one for being so humble.  Jean offered me one last smile before closing out.  I minimized my Skype screen, and the bright light of my laptop shined onto our faces.

I thought Mina would hop off of my bed and head to her room, but she scrambled from my side to sit directly in front of me.

"You and Jean make a really funny, cute couple."

I smiled, but felt my stomach tighten. "Please, Mina, you can't tell anyone..."

The smile on her face disappeared, and was replaced with a look of sympathy. Being the slightest bit "different" in a family of means is hell. She nodded. "Of course I won't. And when you come out, I'll be right there with you."

"I'm already out." I said, leaving her confused. "There's nothing I can do if they don't wanna accept it, you know?"

"I see..."

"The thing is, if they find out Jean is my boyfriend, they'll do everything in their power to ruin his life!" I whisper-shouted, slowly descending into panic. My last ex didn't suffer any serious consequences, because his father was friends with mine, but Jean will be handled much differently.

Mina didn't seem to believe me. "Mr and Mrs Bodt? No way..."

I don't blame her for thinking that way. My parents are extremely hard to dislike. I just shook my head and looked away. "You don't know them..."

During the long pause that followed, I just sat there in front of this girl, whom I never expected to know so much about me in the span of a night.

"You know, I thought today was really strange, mostly because you and your family are here. We usually don't have...er, well, outsiders over for the holidays." I changed the subject, looking back at her and hoping for a lighter expression. If anything, the atmosphere got even more tense.

"We aren't exactly outsiders, Marco. There're big things planned for you and me..." She looked away from me. I immediately felt anxious. She shrugged. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" I blinked.

"Our fathers are going to be business partners for many years to come...and to top that off, they're planning on becoming in-laws, too."

My eyebrows furrowed. "Wh-What?"

"Don't you get it, Marco? The whole reason I'm here and we're allowed to be this close is because they want to see how well we get along." She explained. "We're intended..."

Everything seemed to stop as soon as she said that. I had to ask myself if I heard her correctly and in the right context.

Intended? Like, betrothed? Courting?

What the hell are my parents doing?!

_"WHAT?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh yikes~  
> I'm so excited for the next few chapters! Just more fluff and smut comin your way since I'm figuring out what to do with the plotline haha   
> But hey, thanks so much for following the story I love you guys :>


	22. Back of the Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pot Hornies are a real thing ( ͡͡ ° ͜ ʖ ͡ °)   
> (NSFW)

Jean

_Sunday night..._

__

Marco's coming back tonight, and - maybe I'm a little excited. I did clean the room, freshen up and set up a few netflix movies to watch, but it isn't that big of a deal...

I was starting to get a bit worried, though...it's almost eleven at night and there's no sign of him. I picked up my phone, threw on my coat and boots and was about to head out the door. It's not like I even know where to go, I'm just restless. Fortunately, I didn't have to go anywhere. I opened the door to see Marlowe Freudenburg holding Marco up as support. Hitch was behind them, dragging Marco's luggage.

"Ah, hello, Jean! How was your thanksgiving?" Marlowe giggled, pushing past me to drag Marco toward the bed. "Jeez...he's a heavy one."

"What the hell happened?" I blinked. I sniffed Hitch as she walked in and shut the door. "You guys reek - were you /drinking?"

"Ssh!" Hitch jerked her head at me, finger to her lips. She flipped her hair, a little red in the cheeks. "When I went to get Marlowe from the airport, Marco here was with him. We're all really down in the dumps so I thought I'd pay a visit to Daddy's wine cabinet."

"You _what?!_ " I clenched my teeth.

"What're you gettin' so mad about, Jean?" Marlowe slurred, throwing Marco's hanging limbs onto the bed. "It ain't like you don't enjoy a drink or two..."

"Yeah, a drink or two, maybe. You guys had like _six_." I folded my arms. I looked over at Marco, who looked so innocent passed out on my pillow. He gave a lazy moan each time he was touched.

"Y'know, He led us around the cops, the TAs and to this room! If it was just Hitch and I, we'd probably be caught for sure." Marlowe chuckled, plopping down on the desk chair. "Marco here's a pretty functioning drunk."

"Comforting." I deadpanned.

"I know, right?" Marlowe chirped, totally missing the sarcasm.

"Aw, you two pushed your beds together." Hitch hummed, leaning her arm on my shoulder. I rolled my eyes turning my head so she wouldn't see the blush on my face.  "Anyway, I could get in trouble for being here after curfew. See ya later, boys." Hitch turned on her heel and out the door. I looked over at Marco, face down on the bed with his feet hanging off, completely gone. Marlowe stood to his feet, snickering at him.

"None of you felt this was a bad idea?" I folded my arms, glaring at them. Marlowe's head just flopped in my direction, giving me an irritated scowl.

"When'd _you_ of all people turn into such a narc? What's the worst that could happen?"

"Well, the _last_ time we got drunk we got set up so bad we almost never recovered." I said. "I don't want 'im to be hungover and a shitstorm like that happens again."

"You're paranoid!" Marlowe cackled. He stumbled toward me and grabbed my shoulders. "Look...you're not fuckin' around with that weirdo Ackerman anymore, and you've got people lookin' out for you now."

I breathed out, thinking maybe my overreacting was really because this isn't the reunion I wanted. Marlowe stood to his feet, stumbling a bit, then held his hands up, as if to tell me that he was in control.  I rolled my eyes and followed him to the door.

"See you around, Kirschstein." He headed toward the door. I opened the door for him and thanked him for bringing Marco back safely. When the door shut and silence fell upon the room, Marco got restless.

"Jean..."

I dug through his suitcase for some bottles of water and set them on the nightstand. I sat next to him, rolling him onto his back, laughing softly at his groaning the whole time.

"What's goin' on, Marco? You don't gotta drown your problems in alcohol like these other assholes, that's why you got me." I tapped his cheek so he'd open his eyes and look at me.

"I know, I know..." His eyes popped open, but only for a second. His eyes slowly closed again and his voice faded. "Im sorry..."

I huffed, slapping him a couple more times. "C'mon, get changed."

He woozily complied, letting me yank off his boots, his coat, and stripping him until he was down to his undershirt and boxers. Sober Marco would've cracked a crappy joke about how perverted I am, but now I'm learning just how much he actually trusts me.

"Y'know, even though you're mad at me, I'm kinda happy about it, 'cause you care and stuff..." He cracked a small smile, still unable to open his eyes. I chucked his clothes in a pile of his other clothes near his closet, scowling back at him. He was absolutely right, but I didn't care to hear it now.

"Well leaving you to your own devices would be a fuckin' disaster. Imagine not havin' me around." I chuckled smugly.

His head was hanging low and he was quiet, I couldn't see his face, but I heard him laughing. "You're right. I...don't ever wanna imagine that..."

My eyebrows furrowed at that response. It was only until I saw tears falling and his body start to shake that I realized something was really wrong. I rushed back onto the bed, my hands cupping his face.

"Whoa, whoa, Marco, it's okay, I was just talkin' outta my ass..! I do care about you, a lot. I'm not really mad..!" I assured him, wiping his cheek. He shook his head, still being able to smile.

"It's not that, Jean...it's not you. It's me..."

"What d'you mean?" I blinked, utterly confused. "'Not you it's me'? You're not dumping me, are you?"

"No!" He panicked, totally missing the fact that I was joking. "Never, it's just that..things are just...I mean..."

His eyes were bloodshot and overflowing, and they desperately wanted to confess, but his mouth - as usual - kept me in the dark.

"D-Don't worry, I'm gonna fix this, Jean. I won't let you go." His head fell onto my chest. My hands fell onto his back, hoping to comfort him. I chose not to say anything, hoping he would just come out with it. Instead of just _telling_ me what's wrong, he says something completely different.

"I love you..."

I felt the sincerity, even more so since he's drunk as a skunk...still, I couldn't help but feel a knot in my stomach at his timing, whether he meant to say it or not. What is making him feel this way? Fix _what_ exactly? I knew better than to pry for answers, drunk Marco was just as annoyingly tight-lipped as sober Marco.  I chose not to respond to the sentiment right away.  It isn't like he notices.

"C'mon, let's go to sleep." I pulled him down with me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping my arms safely around him.

"Sorry if it's outta nowhere, but I needed you to know..." He mumbled, possibly getting sleepier by the second. "I really love you..."

I tightened my grip around him, kissing the top of his head.  It kinda _is_ out of nowhere, but it’s not like I’m disappointed to hear that.  I have particularly strong feelings for Marco, too, but only kept them a secret because I didn’t want to freak him out. Still, I would've liked to hear this news sober.

The next morning, I woke up practically off the bed from how much space he was taking up. I looked over my shoulder, seeing the reason I couldn't freely move was because of those long legs over me, tangled in the bed sheets.  I’ve gotten so used to his bad sleeping, I hardly made a face.  I sat up, taking a stretch to wake myself.  It was completely white outside my window; snow fell everywhere last night, and it's the most we've had so far.

As usual, I headed for the bathroom first. Once I was dressed and pretty much ready to go, I shook Marco awake.

"Up and at'em, Princess."

"Ugh..." He groaned, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes. When he saw me plopping down on the bed with my phone to wait for him, he frowned a little. "Hope I didn't bug you too much..."

I watched him from the corner of my eye. "What d'you mean?"

"Well...stumbling in here like that, not bein' about to even hold my head up, that kinda thing..." He shrugged.

"You don't remember anything in particular?"

He blinked, growing a little nervous. "Should I? I didn't say or... _do_ anything weird, did I?"

I shook my head, brushing it off as not being that important...but to me, it kind of was. I was trying to get him to confess what was wrong _and_ to say that he loved me again - it's different hearing it from a sober person.

"Well, I'm sorry if I was a pain in the ass." He gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

"You weren't. Maybe I was a little jealous I wasn't apart of the fun, too." I shrugged.

"Last night was pretty heavy. Nothing fun about it at all." He said just before sliding off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

I completely stopped what I was doing, wondering what he felt he could tell Marlowe and Hitch about and not _me?_

Marco and I are dreading going to Mr. Dawk's class; I don't think we can handle much more of his suspicious stares and interrogations. On the way there, we were given yet another reason to hate the class.

Kenny Ackerman stood at Marco's locker, looking much better since the breaking-and-entering incident...meaning his head must have healed.

"Great..." I mumbled, walking over to him once he got a glimpse of us. That cocky smile grazed his face.

"Y'know, I figured maybe waiting at Jean's locker would be better, but then I thought, why do that when Jean doesn't even carry schoolbooks much less go to class..."

"What d'you want, Ackerman?" I folded my arms.

"Just wanna express how proud I am at your progress, Jean-y...you're head of the Bullies, the Preps, are you tryna get in the Burnouts good graces now? Ambitious!" He tilted his head.

"It's none of your business what we do." Marco cut in, pushing him aside to get to his locker.

"Ooh! Look how ballsy Freckled Jesus has gotten!" Kenny chuckled, brushing off his shoulder where Marco pushed him. He leaned in, staring Marco down. "You seem a little down, Spot. Is it 'cause Jean's cheating on you with the big handsome principal?"

"What?!" Marco and I exclaimed in unison. Our reaction seemed to be exactly what he was aiming for.

"You're gone for three days and someone stole your knight in shining armor.." Kenny flashed us his phone. Marco's eyebrows furrowed with confusion and my eyes widened with shock. It was me talking to Mr. Smith out in the parking lot the other day. He swiped the screen, showing another photo of me getting into his car, another of us driving away, and a last one of us going into the bar together.

"You fucking followed me, you creepy fuck!" I hissed as he stepped back with a snicker. I should have listened to my gut that day and _not_ get the car with Mr. Smith...but how could I have known this would happen? It was so quiet that day, and it seemed like it was just the two of us...and if that wasn't enough, I had to talk to Mike and Nanaba.

"Oh, _I'm_ creepy? Says the guys who sneak into my room in the dead of night, groping under my mattress like a couple of freaks!" He growled. His expression softened once he saw my inevitable reaction, my slight flinch at the mention of the incident.

"You're pathetic, Kenny. Nothing happened and you know it." Marco defended me.

"Maybe. Although...other people won't immediately come to that conclusion." He hummed. I should have smashed that cellphone to pieces, but Kenny Ackerman was too smart to leave something like that on just his phone. "What if it got into the hands of his lovely fiancee? Who would comfort her then?"

I suddenly remembered the undercurrent hatred Mr. Dawk and Mr. Smith had for eachother, seemingly over Mr. Smith's fiancée.

"Are you really that bent on helping Mr. Dawk ruin the principal's life?" Marco said firmly, knowing full well that this was hardly about Mr. Dawk as opposed to getting back at us.

"You two think that just because you're getting so much leverage over the cliques that you're gonna take this school?" he snarled.

"Some of us don't put so much effort into dumb shit." I rolled my eyes.  He ignored the snippy comment and barked his response.

"Whatever, you two won't take over shit if this place is shut down from a scandal like this..." He smirked. "And hey! What's got you two to be such good friends with the principal, anyway? I mean, he _did_ throw you in the Survey Corps."

"Who told you that..?" Marco mumbled.

"We're still a little curious as to how Jean-y got you out...what'd he have to do? Did it have anything to do with that funny little USB you were fishing for under my mattress?"

"C'mon, Marco." I grabbed his hand, dragging him away. I thought about calling his bluff, but despite being a good liar, Kenny wasn't one to back off on a threat. We had to get the upper hand on all this, and soon.

Suddenly, the beep from the intercom sounded, getting everyone's attention.

"Attention Garrison students," the voice of Coach Keith Shadis sounded.  "Please make your way to the gymnasium for the Garrison Titans' pep rally."

"A pep rally?" Marco hummed. Students in the halls became excited, rushing out the doors, just glad for the excuse to be out of class.

"Our way out." I shuffled with him in the crowd. The cloudy sky was dark, despite it only being none in the morning. Not even the excited chatter of our schoolmates could distract from how dark and ominous this day seemed. Marco walked beside me, silent as a mouse.

"Hey, don't worry about Kenny. Even if this shithole gets shut down, that's considered a good thing, isn't it?" I took his hand.

"Is it?" He responded, staring down at the ground. My eyebrows furrowed; I didn't have the slightest idea what could be wrong about that.

"What's up with you, Marco?" I come out and ask him.

"Nothing." He shook his head, not even looking at me. He's obviously hiding something from me, and the fact that he didn't want to tell me was beginning to piss me off.

"Don't gimme that! You've been acting weird since you got back. You told me you were gonna fix something, that you didn't wanna let me go?" I stopped walking with the crowd.

"I was just drunk and saying stupid stuff." He muttered, obviously trying to get me to drop this, dismissing this was only making me more upset.

 _'I love you'_   was just stupid drunken rambling? He said it _twice_ and dares dismiss it as stupid?

"All that cryin' you were doin' didn't seem stupid!" I folded my arms.

"Can we just drop it?! It's something I have to deal with alone!" He snapped. It wasn't exactly his sharp tone that shut me up, it was the fact that after all we've been through together, he still feels he has to shoulder these things on his own. He sighed, calming himself down. "I'm...just not ready to talk, alright? Sorry..."

I guess when he put it that way, I had to respect it. He's my boyfriend, but still his own person. I glanced off, offering my silence as compliance.

Most of the school had gathered in the gym, and if it weren't for our little disagreement, we would be, too, but it seemed that we also discovered we weren't the only ones lagging behind. I spotted a few Burnouts hanging around smoking cigarettes, among them was Annie Leonhardt. I locked eyes with her, causing Marco to catch a glimpse of her, too. Before I could react, Marco began walking toward her.

"H-Hey, where're you going?"

"Ask her what she knows about Julz." He simply said, leaving me completely perplexed.

"Oh, think she'll just _tell_ you?"

"She and Mina...they have history, remember? Maybe she'll wanna know Mina's looking for her." Marco flashed me a confident smirk.  My eyes widened with sudden realization.  I completely forgot about the Skype date I had with Marco and his new friend, Mina.  Forget trying to talk to Ymir, we've got a sure shot at the next best thing, apparently.

"Annie," Marco called. Annie slid those ice blue eyes at Marco, waiting for him to state his business. "We need your help."

"Do I know you?" She blinked before taking another puff of her cigarette.

"C'mon, Annie," I stepped up. "It's about Julz."

With that, she started to walk away. I walked with her, keeping my distance and hoping she's in a good mood. "You can't tell me you just don't care...that you never cared about him!"

"I didn't _tell_ you anything." She said.

"I know you're mad at him for getting addicted - believe me, a lot of people are..." I began.

"Try not to get disappointment and anger confused." She threw her cigarette on the ground before stepping on it.

"So you do still care." Marco chimed in.

"You two are getting annoying." She grumbled, walking faster.

"Okay, okay, look...you've gotta tell us where he is. I'm really desperate to find him." I pleaded with her.

"Sorry, can't." She shrugged, implying she didn't know.

"C’mon, Annie, I know all about it. I know you guys deal coke, I know your biggest hits have been at the Survey Corps, and I know Julz bought from you. I know.” Marco began, prompting her to face us completely.  A lump formed in my throat at the way her stoic expression disappeared from her face.  She didn’t exactly look pissed, but those blue eyes pierced right through us.  “Ymir has a cousin living somewhere around here, right? Where does this person live?”

“Y’know, you telling me that you know all these things about us and asking me to do this sounds a lot like a threat.” She said defensively.  “So what if you know what we do or where we’ve been? Practically every kid knows and there’s no way any of them have the balls and the proof to do anything about it. Are you saying that you do?”

“We’re not trying to threaten you…” I shook my head.

“And I’m telling you that I don’t know where your brother is. So I guess we’re done here.” She turned, sticking her hands in her jacket pockets.  I sighed, drooping my head and staring down at my feet.  Marco was watching me from the corner of my eye, and turned back to Annie walking away.

“Maybe talking to Mina again might jog your memory…”

She stopped right in her tracks.  Her sudden response made me a little nervous, but what’s better is that I’m starting to think we were getting somewhere.  This gladness wouldn’t last too long, though.  She spun around, coming closer.  “What did you just say?”

I started to feel a little uneasy.  “She really wants to hear from you...Mina Carolina…”

Before I knew it, I was slugged _hard_ in the stomach, falling to my knees and into the snow.  With incredible speed, she chokeslammed Marco against the brick wall.  My eyes widened once I saw her swipe something from under her skirt; it was a silver pocket knife flicked against Marco’s throat.  I was still in pain, but I scrambled to my feet to try to diffuse this.

“Wh-Whoa, Annie, what the fuck!”

“It’s okay, Jean!” Marco held his hand out at me.  Annie didn’t even flinch, and I was pretty sure it was because she had a number of ways to stop me from making any sudden movements.  Marco swallowed hard, glancing at the knife.  “It’s...It’s okay.”

“You’ve got some fucking nerve bringing that up, new kid. Either nerves of steel or fucking dumb as bricks.” Annie snarled.  “Who told you that? Who’s leaking my information?”

“No one!” Marco struggled against her.  Annie slowly pressed the side of the knife against his throat, and he spoke up.  “I know her. I met her over Thanksgiving break, okay? She told me that she knew you!”

“Even if that _is_ true, why would she confess something like that to you?” Annie slammed him against the wall again.  I tried inching closer, but I quickly stopped once Annie glared at me, daring me to take another step with those eyes.

“Mina and I are…” Marco trailed off, piquing my interest.  What was he going to say? That they’re friends? He shut his eyes.  “Our situation...is different. She didn’t tell me how she knew you, so believe me, if there’s a story behind your history together, I don’t know it!”

Annie paused, still holding the knife tightly in her hand, dangerously close to Marco’s face.  She stared into Marco’s eyes for a while, and finally stepped back, letting him go.  He fell to the ground, holding his hands to his neck.  I rushed to his side, glaring up at Annie.

“What the fuck...you weren’t actually gonna cut ‘im, were you..!?”

“Come to my office at dinnertime.” she simply said, meaning the old school bus in the parking lot.  “I’ll tell you what I know.”

She placed the little knife back in the strap on her upper thigh and strolled away, like nothing happened.  I had never seen Annie that way, and this experience just made me even more reluctant to get on her bad side ever again.  I turned to Marco, who was still trying to catch his breath.  He looked up at me, catching my face in his hands once I got closer.

"You okay?"

"You almost got your throat slit and you're askin' if _I'm_ okay?!" I shrieked. He just cupped my face in his hands, reassuring himself that I'm alright, and stood up. He held out his hand for me to take.

"C'mon, dinner isn't for another couple hours. Let's head back to the room."

I took his hand, a little taken back by how seamlessly he was taking the lead here. He had such a calm confidence about him now.

"Sure you okay? I didn't expect her to be so fast..." He said, glancing down at me still holding his hand.

"You uh...wanna roll up when we get back?" I asked him.

It took him a moment, then he finally smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I can go for a smoke."

When we were settled in the room, I wasted no time packing the pipe. Usually, we tie a couple dryer sheets to the end of an empty toilet paper roll, but we didn't have the materials or the patience to find them, so Marco just grabbed a towel and made due.

I watched him smoke up, still uneasy about everything that's happened since he came back. He noticed my staring upon his exhale, then handed the bowl and lighter back to me.

"What?" He blinked, moving the towel from his face.

Instead of addressing my anxieties about him, I told him about my other ones. "It's just...I wanna know, but...what if I don't like what she's got to tell me?"

"It's alright, Annie most likely doesn't know too much. The worst that can happen is that she gives us Julz's location and he turns out not to be there. Then we'll just be at square one again." He simply said.

I just stared into those eyes; eyelids growing heavier by the second. He's been holding the bowl out to me for a while now, but I hardly noticed. "You've...really adapted to how things go around here, huh?"

"Could be considered a good thing." He shrugged. "But hey, how many times have you been strong for me?"

I smiled at the sentiment.  Maybe I’m so used to looking after myself, I’m a little taken aback when others do.  Marco nudged me, glancing down at the pipe I /still haven’t taken a hit from.  I flicked the lighter, placing the flame over the bowl and inhaling deeply.

“Hey,” Marco called.

“Mm?” I nodded, still holding in the smoke.  He paused a moment, probably nervous about whatever he’s about to say, probably just high and lost in thought.  I exhaled into the towel, laying back against the headboard.

“D’you wanna go home with me?” he asked.  I looked over at him, watching the blank stare on his face, and suddenly started snickering.  He furrowed his eyebrows, starting to laugh himself.  “Why’re you laughing? I’m serious!”

“I’ll come home with you, Freckle-face…” I dragged my fingers along his forearm, wagging my eyebrows.

“What’re you doing?” he snorted.

“Seducing you. This is what this is all about, right?” I hummed, not realizing how close I was to his face.  He turned his face, trying to hide his reddening cheeks and dopey smile.  Fucking precious.  He managed to quell his laughter and continue.

“ _Christmas_ , you dork. D’you wanna...come home with me for the holidays?” he caught my hand lingering on his arm.  When I didn’t respond right away, he quickly added to the offer.  “I mean, maybe not the whole break, but like, we spend Christmas at my house, then go to your house to New Years...”

“Sounds good, Freckles.”

I leaned in, putting almost all my weight on him in a kiss.  He giggled between kisses as we toppled over.  I was certain that my holidays were gonna be shitty, mainly because Julien is missing and my parents will do everything humanly possible to ignore that fact.  Atleast now, I won’t be alone.  I have the greatest distraction.

Honestly, I can’t even remember dozing off.  It’s only until Marco shakes me awake that I realize it.

The two of us rushed to the abandoned school bus, hoping Annie wasn't waiting too long. Once we arrived, she was standing near the door, arms crossed and beyond irritated.  She caught a glimpse of us and straightened.  We flinched under her death glare.

"Hey," I called, about to thank her for going through with this, but she snapped open the bus doors and placed a hand on her hip.

“You’re the one asking _me_ for help and you show up late? And high? Honestly…”

“Alright, we don’t have a viable excuse, but we’re here now, okay?” Jean tried to reason with us.  It was clear that she’s furious, but she knew as well as us that if she wanted to hear from Mina again, she’d cooperate.

"Hurry up, I don't wanna raise any suspicion being seen together."

Marco and I headed toward the back of the bus, sitting in the very last seat, waiting for her to take a seat.

"Why would Ymir care if you're talking to us? We haven't done anything to you guys." I said.

“She’s been insanely paranoid these days. What I’m doing for you right now is a big fuckin’ deal.” she replied.  There could be a number of reasons as to why Ymir is being so paranoid, and I wanted to know, but Julz is the reason we’re here.

"As you know, Ymir gave your brother an opportunity to get clean, so she sent him to her cousin on the outskirts of town." Annie began. "Here's her address."

She handed me a piece of paper with the location scribbled along the bottom. I took it with both hands, neatly folding it up and sticking it in my pocket.

"Her name is Ilse. I don't know much about her, other than the fact that she's connected. Ymir doesn't know I gave you this information, and if you know what's good for you, it needs to stay that way." She narrowed those ice blue eyes at us.

"We didn't hear it from you, got it." I nodded. I had no idea how we were going to convince Ilse that we were trustworthy while at the same time keeping Annie out of the doghouse with Ymir, but I didn't care. I looked over at Marco, and he took the cue to pull out his cellphone and pull up Mina's contact.

"Mina Carolina. She's really eager to hear from you..."

"I can't believe..." Annie began to say, but she cut herself short once she realized we were still listening. "Thanks."

"It's the least we can do...I just feel bad for making you betray Ymir." Marco said solemnly.

"Cut the crap, Bodt, you didn't _make_ me do anything. What Ymir doesn't know won't hurt her. Besides..." Annie stood up, shoving her phone in her pocket. "Loyalty is conditional."

That had to be the Garrison's unspoken motto. Everyone here has an agenda, and the cliques they follow are inevitably a benefactor of whatever goal they're trying to achieve. Then again, Annie's statement wasn't just a fact of the Garrison, but also a fact of life. She and Armin sure have a knack for making me think these things.  She rushed out of the bus, headed back to the Girls Dorm.

As the two of us sat in the back of the school bus, huddled together for warmth, I didn't even know why we were still there. Maybe I was still frustrated with how things were going, but I didn't bother moving yet.

I felt Marco's arm around me, rubbing my shoulder. My frustration died down, just happy he's beside me. I looked over at him, Into those big brown eyes. "So...should we head to the address tomorrow after class..?"

A small smile grazed his freckled face. "Yeah, of course"

He's so fucking precious. He leaned his forehead on mine, squeezing my shoulder. I pressed my lips against his, showing my gratitude and affection for staying at my side through all this.

"Thanks."

"Thanks?" His eyebrow arched.

"You're just...down for anything, y'know? No matter how stupid, how dangerous, you always got my back, even with my family drama..." I averted my eyes, feeling a little warm from embarrassment. He blinked, honestly not feeling as if I owed him anything.

"We're solid, right? Besides...Julien's my friend." He cracked a smile. Damn that cutesy smile. Although he was making me feel better, the look on my face must not have been too convincing. "Hey, I don't stick around out of any obligation...I do it 'cause I..."

I stared into those eyes, anticipating _exactly_ what's about to be said.

Instead, he stopped mid-sentence and pulled me closer, kissing me again. Making out is fun and all, but making out with _Marco_ gives me an entirely new feeling. I just feel comfortable, wanted, safe.  The fact that I'm still a little high with a case of Pot Hornies isn't going to get me off of him anytime soon. He pulled away, tugging softly at my bottom lip. I went in for more, and he pulled away, kissing teasingly along my face. Although he was teasing me, I felt every bit of admiration for me, and it made my face flush with embarrassment. I slid my hand from his face down to his neck. He jumped, shuddering from the chill of my fingertips.

"Jeez, that's cold..." He pulled away with a light chuckle. A smile pulled at my lips, but I wasn't about to be distracted. I moved from my space beside him and straddled his lap, giving him another passionate open-mouthed kiss. I felt him pulling my hips into his as we deeply breathed eachother in, grasping at any chance to get closer.

"Jean...someone might see..." He whispered, eyes still glued to my lips.

"No one'll see, trust me..." I yanked the buttons of his coat. He unzipped my jacket, reaching under and pulling my body closer to his. The feeling of his chest against mine, his body heat, it was making me hot. I tasted his lips just once more before I dragged mine down to his neck. He laughed, sinking down in the seat a little to make my straddle a little more comfortable. His hands explored my back, finally stopping at my ass.

"Jean..." He breathed, digging his fingers into me. I pulled away, admiring the mark I left, hiking his shirt up. He hissed from the chill. "Hey..!"

I kissed each and every unique freckle dusted onto his chest, dragging my fingers along the muscles of his stomach. My kisses got lower, and his breathing became louder. I sunk to my knees on the bus floor, my hands groping the bulge through his khaki pants. His moan was soft, low, and sending shivers down my spine...either that or the cold.

I unbuttoned his pants, peppering kisses on his lower tummy, and peeled his boxer briefs down.

"J-Jean..." He moaned as I kept palming his swelling bulge.

"Is this okay?" I looked up into those glassy eyes. He placed a hand on my face, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. My face must have been tomato red; I stared him in the eyes as he let me tug his briefs lower. My heart raced with anticipation as my eyes traveled down that tan, speckled body, past the dark curls at his lower region, and finally the long, thick rod that was his member. My Freckled Angel was packing.

"God fucking bless..." I sighed, taking a good look at it in my hand, already hard and slick with pre cum.

"Sh-Shut up..." His face flushed, shuddering a bit once I wrapped my fingers around it. "Jean, I..."

I shut him up, dragging my lips along the head, swiveling my tongue along the head. He whined, biting his bottom lip. Unlike him, I wasn't one for teasing, so I didn't waste time wrapping my lips around him, slowly taking as much of him into my mouth as I could.

"A-Ahh..." He whimpered, encouraging my slow bobbing. Everything about Marco Bodt was captivating to me, even in this moment; his keens and moans, his bated breath, his reddening face, his taste, his big hands stroking my hair with each slurp...I was making a mess of him at the back of this bus, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it, even moreso once I start palming my own erection.

"Oh shit..." He moans softly, causing me to smile a little. My hand stroked what I couldn't readily fit into my mouth, and it was leaving him practically incoherent. I absolutely loved Marco's sounds. The deeper I went, the louder he became, and at this rate, maybe someone /would find us here.

"Fuck...fuck...holy fuck..!" He sighed, guiding my head with his hand, trying his best not to buck his hips against me and fuck my throat. I mean, I'm good, but not that good. I pulled off with one last lick, staring up at his eyes crossing.

"You sound hot when you swear like that."

"I...you...I mean..." He stammered, still beyond words from the things I was doing with my mouth. I stroked him with my hand, unbuttoning my pants to give myself a little relief. When I had my other hand on my crotch, I took him back into my mouth, continuing our steady pace.

Marco stifled his moaning removing his hand from my head and pressing it to his face, biting his finger and peeking down at me going to work on him. Rubbing myself in unison with sucking him off felt better than I expected.

"That feel good?" I kept stroking him. Watching his flushed face, furrowed brows, and open mouth holding back loud cries...that's what did it for me. Getting him off gets _me_ off.

"Yes..!" He panted. "I...I'm really close, Jean..."

I took him back into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks and sinking as deep as I could. He threw his head back, tangling his fingers in my hair. I felt his tip at the back of my throat, and I swear his voice shot up atleast six octaves.

"Jean, I'm gonna..!" He whimpered, trying his best to keep his composure. I rubbed my hand up his stomach and chest, letting him know I wanted everything he had to give me. His breaths got shorter, louder, moans more staggered as I kept going. He let out one last cry, exploding in my mouth. He went limp, catching his breath, watching me suck the rest clean off of him.

"Holy shit..." He sighed, hypersensitive to the broad strokes of my tongue along his shaft, laving up whatever else dripped from him. I looked him square in the eyes and swallowed. His eyes were glassy and a smile tugged at his lips.

"Oh my god, Jean…”

I licked whatever residue was off my lips, and wiped my mouth.  He reached down and adjusted himself and buttoned up.  I took a seat next to him, feeling awkward from the silence that followed me finishing him off.  He had his finger under my chin and guided my face toward his, kissing my lips.  I gave a small smile, thinking that was less awkward than a “Hey thanks for the BJ”.  Who am I kidding? Even if he said something like that, I wouldn’t even mind…

“Jean?” he called, probably a little put off by my silence.

I looked him right in the eyes and just blurted it out.  “Hey, I love you.”

He was struck with surprise.  His eyes widened, lips apart from my sudden statement.  I averted eye contact, trying to seem aloof about it, but the silence was me waiting on his response. When I looked back, he looked absolutely relieved. Maybe this was a relief to me, too, since I'm realizing that the only reason I wanted him to say it so bad was because I really did love him, too.

“Jean, I--”

I smiled, knowing he’d say it back.  “Don't worry, I know. I don’t wanna hear it fresh after a blowjob…”

"You...you know..?" He blinked.

"When you were drunk last night...you kinda let it slip.” I said, watching his expression droop a little.  He averted his eyes, staring down at the old bus floor.

“That...was not the way I meant to tell you…”

“Kinda surprised me." I shrugged, referencing everything that's happened between us since just last night.  "But y'know, it doesn't matter. As long as we know how the other feels."

My face was beginning to heat up from how corny that sounded, and Marco knew it.  Still, he didn't want to ruin the moment by laughing, the angel.  He took my hands in his, kissing the scars on my knuckles.  Sure, a lot _has_ happened; I still want to know what Marco is hiding from me, why he'd rather drink and talk to Marlow and Hitch about it than me, but thinking too hard about that would only distract from right now.  I always knew I had something special with this dope, something deeper than any relationship I've been in...and I hope we're both prepared, because I'm only falling further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, whenever I put myself in the reader's shoes, I'm always reminded of the fact that as a fanfic reader, my immediate thoughts going into a story is "Aw this is cute. Now where's the porn?"   
> I dismissed those thoughts and accepted that I'm a trashy pervert, but I realize now that I'm not the only one thirsty for smut haha. It's my first one :D  
> I've got a bit of a brain block, so chapters may come out a little slower than usual :(  
> Thanks for sticking with me! :)))


	23. The Laundromat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's conscience haunts him for the majority of this one

Marco

 

He loves me. Even if he didn't give me that amazing BJ in the back of the schoolbus, I'm still ecstatic. We're in love.

And yet...that's what makes things ten times worse. If I tell him that I'm meant to marry someone when I become of age, what would be the point of everything we've been through? I don't want to lose him, but at the rate things are going, I'm inevitably going to.

Strangely, when I woke up, he was still bundled up beside me. I glanced at the window, then at the clock. It was a little after six in the morning; Jean wouldn't be up for another hour. I took the opportunity to just stare at him sleep. His light snoring, messy hair, open mouth - he looked awful, but I still smiled, I still found something beautiful about him. I rolled over, wrapping an arm around him and wishing we could stay cuddled like this forever. I didn't want to deal with our reality anymore...

I couldn't dream forever, though. When I woke up again, I heard the shower going in the bathroom, and realized Jean was getting ready. It was half past seven, and I might as well get up, too.

"Yo, Freckles, what're you doing? You oughta get dressed now if you're gonna make the first bell."

Before I knew it, we were running late - well, I was.  Jean hoisted his backpack on, standing at the foot of the bed, waiting for me to move.  I glanced left, then right, realizing that I don’t spend a lot of time alone, and nothing against my boyfriend, but he absolutely could _not_ know the reason why I needed to be alone right now.  My eyes fixated on my backpack sitting against the desk.

"Actually, I'm...gonna miss out today." I sat up, scratching my head. He stayed silent, watching for my explanation. "I mean, I have a ton of catching up to do in that class, and the teacher's real pain - especially when I admit I didn't do the homework over break! It's just better I fake sick and do it."

He blinked, studying me still in my pajamas.  Jean is a natural skeptic, and I don’t know if I can deal with the slew of questions that may follow.  To my surprise, he just shrugged, tugging his beanie off.  "Alright. I'll skip, too."

"Um..! Maybe not.” I hopped out of bed, surprising him a little.  “I mean, don't you have gym today?"  

"Yeah..." He frowned. "But--!"

"Coach Shadis hates you, Jean. You gotta get that grade up, alright? Just go, I'll be fine." I said, offering a smile for good measure. He gave one last frown before heading out the door.

"Alright, well...meet me at the entrance so we can head to Ilse's together."

Once the door shut, I immediately began creeping toward the closed door, listening in on his fading footsteps. Once I was sure that he was already down the stairs, I headed straight for my laptop.

I sent my mother a text letting her know I wanted to skype. Since this isn't at all like me, she agreed. I saw her online, and began the call.

"Hello, my sweet boy!" She beamed. When she saw my glare, her smile faltered a bit. "What's wrong?"

"You and Dad are going too far."

"What are you on about, son?" She sighed.

"Mina!" I shouted, startling her out of her jaded mood. "How could you just throw me into an engagement with a girl I barely know?!"

"Please, Marco, you two are still too young. That's why we brought this up to you now, so you can _get_ to know eachother!" She tried justifying her actions.

"You didn't bring anything up to me!" I protested.

"Well of course we couldn't..." She began, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Because you know just how nonsensical it is! I am _not_ interested in girls, mom!" I cut her off.

"Oh, give it a chance! You won't know for sure unless you try." She insisted.

"You shouldn't have to _try_ to like someone." I rolled my eyes.

"You two make a wonderful pair. It was obvious at thanksgiving dinner." She went on. I palmed my face, completely exasperated. "Please, son, this is your father's legacy we're talking about."

"One, he's not my father. Two, we're talking about my _life_ , and three, he's got a legitimate child on the way now, so what's he need me for?" I said bitterly, just before slamming my laptop.

Once the call ended, I just lay back, hands to my face.  We both knew they couldn’t rely on my unborn sibling even if they wanted to. I was so overcome with frustration, I couldn’t even be bothered to move.  Jean could have come back for any reason at any time, and I wouldn’t even care.  I lied to him, not only because I wanted to chew my mother out alone, but also because I just knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything in class today, anyway.

My phone buzzed on the bed beside me, notifying me of a text from Mom.

_"At some point, you will have to give Mina a chance. I'll see you at Christmas. I love you."_

I just dropped the phone back on the bed, not bothering to respond. I closed my eyes, thinking back to the day I returned to Stohess.  Surprisingly, Marlowe was returning, too, and being picked up by Hitch.  Upon seeing eachother, we all agreed to ride back together.  The three of us were pretty quiet in the car; Obviously, I had my reasons, but it wasn’t like Marlowe to be this quiet.  Hitch figured she would ‘lighten the mood’ with some news about Historia.  

_“She reached out to me and told me that she’s running away. She didn’t say when or where...but she told me why. Her parents found her a suitor. She - understandably - doesn’t wanna go through with this. She told me she already has someone she likes…”_

With this news, Marlowe opened up about what was obviously bothering him.

_“So Historia’s trapped, too, huh? My dream girl is apparently the daughter of an oil tycoon. Atleast she’s pretty...”_

The look on my face immediately let them know that I was in the same boat.  It was a little comforting to know I’m not alone in these situations, but going to Hitch’s house and drinking about it all sure wasn’t the way to handle it.

Maybe I should run away, too.  Maybe Jean would run away with me...but that would be insanely selfish.  No matter how devoted he is to me, I shouldn’t ruin his life just to have him in mine.  On the other hand, how the hell can I possibly tell him?  I opened my eyes again, realizing that no matter what I do, I’ll just keep hurting him.

I sat up, throwing on some clothes and a coat, needing to get out of the dorms.

I wasn’t sure if I was going outside to focus more on my thoughts or run away from them.  I couldn’t decide which would make me less anxious.  On my way down the dormitory steps, I zoned in on the chatter around campus.

"Eren and Mikasa aren't dating now, are they?"

"I thought Eren and Armin were a thing?"

"No, no, Armin was in love with Mikasa!"

"Yeah, _was_. It seems he's lost interest."

"I was never worried. No one in high school stays together forever."

Huh. Right. This is high school. How dare I even think about inserting myself into Jean's future - let alone think about taking it away by running away together? I'm an idiot. This won't last, no matter how much I want it to.  I should let Jean go; he can easily find someone else, someone who truly deserves him.  I might as well just suck it up and make things work with Mina.  Sure, she's a girl, but she's beautiful, smart, funny, kind, and accepts who I am...maybe this can work out without romance having to be involved.

I saw Principal Smith lurking in the parking lot, and it seemed like he was waiting for someone. I probably should have minded my own business, but for the sake of a school excuse, I approached him.

"Ah, Bodt," he gave me a nod once he saw me. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Maybe. Shouldn't you be in your office?" I shoved my hands in my pockets, staring at the frosty ground. He slowly turned his head to me, almost appalled that I responded that way.

“Sorry. I need a note.” I said.  I saw him cock his head to the side from the corner of my eye.  “I’m sick, y’know?”

He threw his head back with a laugh.  “Oh, I see.” He cleared his throat, then shook his head.  “It’s funny how afraid of me you were once, and now you’re here playing hooky and demanding passes…”

“After all we’ve been through, I thought: why not?” I shrugged.  “And I was never afraid of you, I just hated you.”

He shrugged with a slight smile, changing the subject.  "He called."

"Mr. Ackerman called you?" I blinked, a little surprised considering all that's happened.

"It's that obvious to you that it was him?"

Instead of answering, I simply rolled my eyes elsewhere.  Mr. Smith may have been surprised at my responses and how much I actually knew about him, but yes, it is that obvious to me; Mr. Smith has an almost teenage-like fixation with Mr. Ackerman, whether he knows it or not.

"Well, He has something important he wants to talk to me about." He said, a tiny smirk pulling at his lips.

"You can't get your hopes up." I told him.

"What would you know about this?" Mr. Smith scoffed.

"About you and Mr. Ackerman? Way too much." I replied.

"I expect the smartass replies from Kirschstein, but it's a little unbecoming of you, Bodt." He folded his arms, giving me a frown. "Is the excuse all you want?"

I stared back down at the snow at my boots, thinking that maybe the fact that I have something on my mind is just as obvious to him as his fixation with the Vice Principal is to me. I ought to just come out with it. "You're engaged, aren't you, Mr. Smith?"

He paused, turning his head back to me, possibly wondering what would make me ask such a question.

"You're engaged to a woman, but you love Mr. Ackerman. It's obvious you've come to terms with that now, but..." I began again, trying to find my nerve. "When things were fresh...did you ever think that maybe...you could make things work with your fiancée..?"

His blue eyes widened a bit, just before he turned away. I couldn't believe how desperate I am right now, talking to Erwin Smith of all people about this. To my surprise, he seemed to take the question seriously.

"Of course I wanted to believe that. It's easier to believe something like that will happen."

I looked up at him, studying the look on his face. He was staring into space, tugging the collar of his coat further up against his skin.

"Most of your young life is spent being reminded of how broken and disgusting you are for being this way, you hope to just make it work, just to be ‘normal’."

My fists clenched in my pockets, and I was suddenly reminded of how embarrassed my parents were when I tried to come out the first time..the hurtful things they said. It never does work, does it? I felt stupid for even trying to imagine myself with Mina, for trying to imagine myself /without Jean.

"So you've been betrothed, have you?" He suddenly asked. I flinched, jerking my head to him. He exhaled, not surprised in the slightest. "There are a number of kids here who are. For confidential reasons, I cannot reveal exactly who is, but you aren't alone."

My eyebrows furrowed, staring down at the ground. I already knew, anyway. The thought I had earlier about following Historia's lead and running away crossed my mind again, but I'm still not strong enough to leave Jean behind, nor am I selfish enough to try to convince him to come with.

"Seeing you kids go through that makes me ashamed. I'm not wealthy, I don't have a family legacy to guilt me into a loveless marriage...I'm just a coward trying to save face..." Mr. Smith sighed.

 _'Yeah. You kinda are.'_ I stared at him from the corner of my eye.

Just then, a black range rover sport came cruising down the road, stopping in front of us. The door opened, and tiny Levi Ackerman stepped out of the driver's seat. I could sense Mr. Smith tense up with anticipation. Mr. Ackerman looked like a college student in his leather jacket and grey hoodie underneath. His hood was pulled over his head, and he was wearing black shades. I could feel his eyes on me through the aviator frames.

"Levi, I..." Mr. Smith cleared his throat.

"Oh, Bodt, glad you're here. Maybe now it won't be nearly as nerve-wrecking to be around this idiot." The former vice principal approached me, completely walking past his ex lover.

"Sorry, Mr. Ackerman, I'm actually about to leave..." I glanced behind me, wondering where Jean was.

"Then I'll say what I need to right here and now." He shrugged. "I just...feel obligated to tell you that you should watch your back."

Mr. Smith and I both gave a puzzled stare. He asked gently, "What are you saying, Levi?"

"Seems my idiot sister tipped off our old friend Nile to what's been going on between us."

Mr. Smith kept silent, possibly processing what wa being said and what it meant for him now. When he finished, he shrugged. "Well, what proof does he have?"

"You think a scandal like this won't be enough to light a fire under your ass?" Mr. Ackerman folded his arms. "You sure are calm for someone who used to be so insanely paranoid."

"You were the paranoid one. Heh, there's hardly a point now. I'm struggling to care, I guess." Mr. Smith hummed, staring at the former vice principal.

"I only cared so much because keeping the secret was important to you." Mr. Ackerman snapped. "And quit giving me that look, you creep..."

"What if I told you that I can't stand this anymore? What if I wanted to take you up on the offer to start over somewhere new?" Mr. Smith inched closer. The shorter man stepped back against his car, cautiously eyeing the blonde.

"How typical of you to consider your better options when it's too late." Mr. Ackerman hissed. He glanced at me, and I tried to quickly act as if I wasn't paying too much attention, but how could that believable when I'm standing right here? He scoffed, seeing right through the attempt. "And what's with you airing out your dirty laundry in front of the kid? You're so goddamn messy."

"You have no idea how much of a mess I've been..." Mr. Smith shook his head, smiling as Mr. Ackerman's face flushed through his scowl.

"Fuck off, already..."

These two are definitely something else, but something in me romanticized them anyway. I knew they still loved eachother, but obviously, it just isn't enough.

"Marco, you shoulda told me about the reunion."

I looked over my shoulder, seeing Jean strolling toward us. He stopped at my side, watching the two older men watch us back. Maybe my own problems were making me crazy, but I couldn't help but wonder if we would end up like them. Will I end up feeling trapped between my duty to my family and my heart? Ultimately ruining the good thing I have here in front of me?

"So Isabel outed us to Nile, he's been looking for ammunition to ruin me for years." Mr. Smith continued the conversation.

"Yes, for three years, about the same age as you and Mary's relationship. I wonder why he'd hate you...it isn't like you proposed to the woman of his dreams or anything." Mr. Ackerman blinked with his signature monotonous sarcasm.

"That red-haired chick with the pigtails from the bar?" Jean chimed in.

"I told you, she and Farlan hate the air I breathe..." The principal chuckled. Mr. Ackerman glanced between Mr. Smith and Jean, possibly wondering how he could have known that. I glanced at the time on my phone and tugged on Jean's coat sleeve.

"Well, we should probably tell you...Mr. Dawk's got Kenny on his side..." I cleared my throat nervously. Both men laid eyes on me, awaiting my explanation. Jean gave an exasperated sigh, elaborating on the subject.

"He followed us from the parking lot into the bar over the break, Mr. Smith. He's got pictures."

"Oho..." Mr. Ackerman scoffed up an almost-laugh, looking back at Mr. Smith.

"He's trying to make it seem like Jean and Mr. Smith are a thing." I rolled my eyes.

"Erwin's a bastard, but he isn't a pedophile." The shorter man hummed. Mr. Smith smiled at the sentiment, but it soon disappeared once Mr. Ackerman's glare resurfaced. "Maybe that wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t _stalked_ me that night."

"L-Levi..."

"We'd love to stick around, but...we gotta get going." Jean began walking backward, tugging me along.

"Hey, you're involved in this, too, now." Mr. Smith called after us.

"Let us know what your plan is. We got bigger ones." Jean called, tugging my coat sleeve.  He turned completely, headed for the entrance.  I turned my head, watching the two men talk some more.  The former Vice Principal had his guard up, leaning against his car and talking things over, but with the way Mr. Smith was looking at him, his body language toward him, those walls were coming back down soon enough...just a hunch.

Once we headed out onto the street, Jean wasted no time hailing a cab, while I stood there staring into space.

“That guy was gonna lose his job one way or another.” Jean scoffed.  I looked over at him, vigorously waving his hand for a cab.  “I mean, his TAs are psychotic lackeys who ain’t ashamed of accepting bribes, he’s got missing students _and_ teachers, he sends kids to fuckin’ mental institutions, and as long as he still gets to bang his assistant, he hardly cares.”

“Speaking of missing kids...Hitch managed to get in touch with Historia. Maybe soon we’ll find out where she is.”

“She did..?” Jean’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah. She ran away because her parents are tryna marry her off to some guy.” I glanced off, reminded of my own situation.  Jean’s face twisted into a disgusted scowl.

“An _arranged marriage_? What kinda idiotic backwards bullshit…”

“I know, right!?” I agreed, not realizing how loud the response was until seeing Jean’s startled expression.  I cleared my throat and tried to calm down.  “I uh...I hear a lot of families do that, though.”

“That’s gotta suck...I don’t think she’s even into guys…” Jean hummed.

“Maybe her parents know that. Maybe they’re trying to force her out of her identity, trying to ‘cure’ her...maybe they think it’s just a phase, even though she’s been brave and came out to them, scared to death of their reaction - and got the absolute worst reaction imaginable.” I stared into space, hardly realizing I was rambling about my own life.  I felt Jean’s eyes on me, and my gut clench.  

“Uh...yeah, maybe that is what’s going on..?”

Thankfully, the taxi pulled up in front of us, and we hopped in.  I should just keep quiet before I say something I regret...this time in front of the cab driver.  I just sunk into the seat and folded my arms, trying to make myself as small as possible.  Jean still didn’t have an idea, but the anxiety of keeping it from him is beginning to eat at me.

We were headed further out of town, into a much poorer neighborhood.  The car turned into a humble strip mall, finally stopping in front of an old laundromat.  Jean and I exchanged a look of confusion, then back at the driver.

“Mind doing your laundry _after_ we get where we need to go?” Jean cocked an eyebrow.

“This is the address you gave me, smartass.” the driver tapped his GPS.  I looked at the first numbers written and the numbers on the building, and they were the same.  Jean seemed to figure it out, too.  His face grew red with anger as he tore a twenty dollar bill from his jacket pocket and shoved it in the man’s hands.  He swung the car door open and stormed out.

“J-Jean..!” I grabbed the backpack he left on the seat.  Before chasing after him, I turned to the grumpy driver.  "Thanks!"

“She fucked us, Marco! We gave Annie the only thing she could’ve ever wanted and all we got was a...fuckin’ laundromat!” he started pacing.  “We should’ve known she wouldn’t _really_ betray Ymir…”

I held my hands up, trying to calm him down.  "Let's just wait a minute, Jean. Annie just isn't the type to--"

"Are you kidding!? Wait 'til I find out where she is, that rotten little--"

Just then, a couple of shifty guys appeared from behind the laundromat, almost bumping into Jean.  They eyed us up and down, and when we thought a confrontation would ensue, they surprisingly just went on their way, seemingly in a hurry to get out of there.  I glanced at Jean, who seemed to calm down after seeing that.  We curiously skulked around the back, seeing a trail to a humble circle of tiny run down houses.

Jean and I approached the small fixer-upper. It immediately took me back to my childhood...the busted blinds in the foggy windows, the fading color of the exterior, the unkempt garden on either side of the door...it looked like the ordinary life of a lower middle-class citizen.

“Her place _has_ no real address…” Jean glanced back at the laundromat, realizing that was the closest thing to an address.  He shook his head, ruffling his hair.  “This is some sketchy shit…”

Yeah, no kidding.  I wondered why someone from a family as wealthy as Ymir's live in place like this; then I remembered Ymir's family "May or may not be" mob affiliated. This place wasn't where Ilse _really_ lived...it was probably a safe house of some sort.

This entire time, it seemed that Jean was standing beside me, staring at the house with a completely different mindset, probably. He must have been trying to find his nerve.

Muffled voices came from inside the house, and since it meant someone was home, it was Jean's extra push to go up to the door and give a few firm knocks.

Everything in the house went quiet. I stood behind him, anticipating whatever might happen. After a few seconds, I heard the locks click and the door finally opened. We moved in, but came to a stop once we saw a young woman peering out of the still-chained door.

“She sent you, too?” she grumbled, narrowing her amber eyes.  “Look, I got more than I can handle with the kid that’s already here--”

“Julien, right?” Jean cut her off, eagerly trying to peer inside.  Ilse paused, studying the two of us shivering outside. She shut the door, and I heard the door chain rattling from inside. She swung the door open completely, stepping back to let us in. Ymir’s cousin, Ilse...not knowing her last name made me even more anxious.  She’s tall, tan, brunette...the only thing that was missing was freckles - she looked so much like Ymir.

"Well? Get in here, you're letting all my goddamn heat out."

The two of us scurried inside, shutting the door behind us. The inside appeared just as humble as the outside; a small television propped on a black trunk, a seemingly recycled couch, and faded, empty walls.  I watched the woman stick a cigarette in her mouth, trying to figure out what age between nineteen and twenty-five she fell on.

Annie informed us that she’s “connected”, and taking a look around this place, I was starting to piece it together and didn’t like it one bit.  It’s obvious to me that she and Ymir do in fact come from a powerful family, but the fact that she’s living so lowkey makes me think that maybe they’re involved in a world the rest of us wouldn’t dream of being apart of.

“So where is he? He’s here, right?” Jean fidgeted around, glancing at the three closed doors beyond the small livingroom.

“Slow your roll, Haircut.” She called, just before inhaling.  “I still don’t know what your connection is to Blondie or my cousin.”

I glanced off, not wanting to get on the subject of Ymir - considering we didn’t get this information from her.  “W-Well, I’m Marco Bodt. This is Jean, Julien’s brother. We’ve been looking for him since he ditched the Survey Corps.”

“For what? You can’t exactly help him.” She leaned back against her kitchen counter.  I wanted to reply, but what could I say? I had no idea how Julz could get out of this situation unscathed.  Still, despite my uncertainty, Jean didn’t falter.

“I’ll find a way, alright? I will. Now which room is he in?”

I felt an unsettling feeling in my gut, watching Jean and Ilse stare eachother down.  Ilse blew more smoke into the dim kitchen light, briefly breaking eye contact to glance at the rooms behind him.  Always the impatient one, Jean tore away from the exchange, about to burst into each door if he had to.  This left me in Ilse’s range.

“So, what about you? You just casually walk into potentially dangerous territory to help some kid find his junkie brother?” she slightly tilted her head.  I furrowed my eyes at her comment, trying to keep an ear out for Jean opening doors.  She pressed her shortened cigarette down on an ashtray, shrugging her shoulders.  “I don’t care, I’m just curious. More than that, though, I’m curious as to why you two showed up at my place out of the blue like this.”

My stomach sank a little further as I tried to keep this conversation away from the truth.  “Julz and Ymir have history...it’s only natural for Jean to come looking…”

“So you’re saying Ymir /did send you here? That’s funny, ‘cause she usually lets me know I’ll have guests ahead of time, y’know?” Ilse folded her arms, giving me a false look of befuddlement; she knew something was going on.

“Shit...what’re you...doing he--HURPH!” a sudden retching came from the back rooms.  There was a heavy sound of liquid splatting onto the hardwood floor that followed, as well as gagging.  Ilse cringed, rushing straight to the back room.  As I got closer, I only saw Jean standing there, frozen, and Ilse holding a trash bin near his face.

“Jesus Christ, Julz! You puked all over my goddamn floor! What d’you think I put _this_ here for!?” she shouted, tapping the trash can for emphasis.

“Sorry…” the boy managed, just barely pulling his head out of the trash.

I took a good long look at my friend.  It seemed the worst of withdrawals stripped him of who he used to be...or atleast how I remembered him.  Not much about him /physically changed, but he looked absolutely drained.  His peachy skin had gone pale, his voluminous blonde locks were beginning to fade, and his eyes had sunken farther than before.

“I...I’ll clean it up.” Jean interjected, swiftly heading out of the room.

“Yeah, _someone_ better clean up. I want you outta here in an hour, so you’d better decide if you wanna take ‘im with you or not.” Ilse ordered just before storming out of the room.  I heard Jean in the bathroom just outside, shuffling around for something to clean up the mess.

As for Julien, he wouldn’t even look at me.  I didn’t expect him to jump for joy at seeing me again, considering how bad our last meeting went.  I took a deep breath and placed a stool near his bed.  He ran his hand through his hair.  “How did you find me?”

“Never mind that, we need a plan to get you outta here." I dragged what appeared to be his backpack away from the wall as Jean came back in with a few towels to clean up the mess.  Julien yanked the backpack from my hand and threw it back against the wall.

"You don't understand; this is way deeper than the clique feuds at the Garrison. This is dangerous!" Julien whisper-shouted. "Haven't you done enough?! How could you bring my little brother into this?!"

"Don't yell at him!" Jean interjected. Julien's expression softened, and Jean continued, ignoring the vomit on the floor and sitting in front of his brother on the bed. "Julz, I'm the one who's been lookin' for you. I don't care what this is, I'm bringing you home."

"I don't have a home, Jean-y. Mom and Dad already cut me off, I lost all my friends, I'm an escaped felon...you can't get mixed up with me..." He shook his head.

Jean grabbed the boy's shoulders, dropping some towels on the puke on the floor. "Look, whatever, I'll talk to mom and dad. I'll get the best lawyers and get you the best help, whatever I got in my account or trust, I'll use it! I don't care!"

"Jean-y..." Julien's voice cracked.

"Shut up, Julz." Jean warned, trying to stay firm.  He turned to me; looking as if one tiny thing could reduce him to tears.  “Mind getting his stuff?”

“Y-Yeah…” I leaped at any chance to help.  I wanted to ask about Moblit, but I figured I’d save that conversation for another day.  I was still there when Julz, Nanaba, and Moblit escaped; they left in the dead of night amongst all the commotion, with nothing but the clothes on their backs.  Judging from the cash in his new backpack, I’d say he withdrew whatever was in his account before his parents cut him off.  “Where to?”

“C’mon,” Jean slung his brother’s arm over his shoulder.  He glanced at Julz, then back at me, digging his phone out of his pocket.  “We can’t book a hotel around here without supervision, so...I’m calling the only person who can help right now.”

“And that would be?” Julz inquired.  Jean placed the phone to his ear.

“H-Hey, Hitch...I need a big favor…”

“Are you shitting me..!?” Julien groaned as Jean helped him out of the room.  Maybe it was just me, but despite being so intimidated by Ilse before, Jean walked right past her, focused on nothing and no one but his brother.  The way they bickered - as if they hadn’t been separated all this time - warmed me up inside.  I was the last to face Ilse’s shady stare.  Surprisingly, she scoffed up a smile.

“You honestly look so out of place with them.”

On the outside, it seemed like I ignored the comment.  I just trailed Jean and Julien outside as if I didn’t hear it at all...but I did.  Something so small and simple took residence in my thoughts for the next few minutes.  This wouldn’t mean anything if I weren’t already questioning my place in Jean’s life now that I’m technically engaged to Mina.

Julien was still slumped against Jean, trying to brace himself from the cold.  Jean gave his brother his beanie and his scarf, and tightly held onto him, nothing could take him away again.  Julien held his stomach, probably still queasy from before.

“Feelin’ alright? Damn it, where the hell is Hitch?” Jean cursed.

It was obvious Julz was embarrassed, but he teased Jean instead of letting it be known.  “Aw shucks, Jean-y, I really missed this mother-hen thing of yours…”

“What’d you say?” Jean gritted his teeth, pinching his brother in the sides.

“You’re a real sweetheart, givin’ me the clothes off your back and all--ow!” Julz shrieked, trying to escape Jean’s physical taunts.

“That’s it, gimme my beanie back!” Jean reached for his hat.

“Quit it! It’s super warm!”

I laughed, just happy Julz finally decided to accept help from us, now.  I could tell they both had a lot to talk about, but until we were all safe and warm, they’d save it.  I suddenly felt freezing a cold hand take hold of mine.  Snapped out of my thoughts, I looked over and saw Jean staring back at me with those pretty hazel eyes.

“This is gonna sound corny, but...I couldn’t have done this without you, Freckles.” he offered me a flustered smile.  I squeezed his hand, hoping to slow down my racing thoughts.

“Jeez, get a room, you two…” Julien teased.  “What an embarrassing bromance, haha...”

Jean and I glanced at eachother, then back at him, still not unlocking our hands.  “We’re literally dating…”

Julien blinked a couple times and loudly gasped.  “Ohh shit...this is _way_ deeper than a bromance, isn’t it!?”

Jean rolled his eyes as I turned my head to laugh.  “There’s uh...a lot to fill you in on, Julz.”

“Oh man..! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! They way he always came by to see you, the way you talked about him, it was so obvious!” He clasped both hands on his head.  Jean tried to hold him steady as we made our way back out front of the laundromat.  A familiar black car pulled up, stopping in front of us.  Once parked, Corgan, Hitch’s butler stepped out.  My eyes widened; I texted her about coming over, but I didn’t expect her to send a car...I guess that’s the special treatment I get when I mention Julien.

“Miss Dreyse offers her apologies for not being able to make it, she stayed behind to make the house presentable for you.” he adjusted his coat.  He rolled his eyes and shrugged.  “God knows why. At any rate, we should hurry.”

“There’s no way…” Julz shook his head.

“Just come on.” I tightly held onto him, as if he would take off running.  “It’s only for a little while, until we can get you somewhere to go.”

He frowned, clutching Jean's jacket tightly in his fist.  He obviously doesn’t have a lot of faith in us now, but he doesn’t have any better options right now.  Jean hurried into the car to get him out of the cold, and I followed.  We all huddled in the backseat, squishing Julien in the middle to warm him up.  Corgan cruised off of the side of the road and headed toward Hitch's beach house.  I saw Julz turn to me from the corner of my eye.  I met his stare, giving him a smile that let him know I'm glad he's here.  He returned the favor, averting his eyes.

"Marco...I'm sorry for how I acted before."

"Forget about it." I shook my head.

"No, I was a dick. You were only tryna help." he insisted.  "After you did that, I found a way out and escaped, but I ended up fucking up anyway. You still managed to save me."

" _AHEM_ ," Jean loudly cleared his throat beside us.  He glanced at us, then non-chalantly glanced off.  "I mean, y'know, if it weren't for Marco none of this would've been pulled off, but y'know, he didn't do it alone!"

I rolled my eyes as Julz punched Jean in the arm.  I found myself smiling to myself as Julz looked back at me.  He gave me a nudge.  "About what I said back then...I just want you to know that I still trust you."

Our eyes met again, and mine occasionally glanced over to Jean lounging at the window seat.  Julien continued, sticking his thumb toward Jean.  "You're a good guy. I trust you with this one, too." 

"Jeez, can we _not_..!?" Jean obnoxiously groaned from the side.  Julien cracked up, turning toward Jean to mess with him some more, leaving me with the words to weigh down on my heart and conscience.  The most important person in Jean's life pretty much just gave me his blessing, and what will I have to show for it? An invitation to Mina and my wedding however many years from now? I just closed my eyes and listened to Jean and Julien carry on beside me while I quietly waited out the rest of the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erwin and Levi are SO unbelievably OOC in this hahaha..it's wild, Erwin is legit my all-time favorite character in snk and I turned him into such a dick lol. But hey, just how he turned out! Speaking of spontaneous character developments, yeah, Julien's been saved! Sorta. We'll see how things unfold with the Kirschstein bros later on, too :]  
> Hit me up at danchou-daddy@tumblr.com ~ :D


	24. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We saved Julz with no strings attached!  
> ...or did we?

Jean

**  
  
**

Part of me wanted to completely burn my bridge with Hitch from the time she tried to make out with me in her kitchen the other night.  Thankfully, we’re on good enough terms to call in favors for one another.  I just needed my brother in a safe place before I can call in _another_ favor…

“Your erm...guests are here, Miss.” Corgan announced upon opening the front door.  Hitch rushed into the foyer, wearing a long satin robe and fuzzy slippers, her hands held close to her heart as those hazel eyes widened at seeing Julien's face.

"It's really you..."

"Long time no see, Hitch..." Julien tried his hardest not to seem uncomfortable. I logged any memories of Hitch confessing her feelings for me  _and_ him in the deepest darkest corner of my mind; he didn't ever have to know that.

"I don't think you've ever been to my place..!" Hitch perked up, rushing to his side. "I should give you a tour."

"Actually, I've had a pretty rough...uh, month...and just want a hot shower and soft bed..." Julien offered her a weak smile.

"Yeah! I'll take you to your room. We can totally catch up tomorrow!" She lunged at him, linking arms. I smiled to myself as Julien was reluctantly dragged away.

Corgan turned on his heel. "I assume you two know your way around the house...Kirschstein certainly does...I'll take my leave."

"Thanks." I frowned as he walked away.

"Is it me, or does the butler really hate you?" Marco smirked.

"I'm gonna help Julz get settled." I started up the stairs. "You've done more than enough, so...get some rest."

He tilted his head, knowing this was less about concern for him and more about wanting to be alone with Julz.  He didn’t say anything about it, though, and turned to do as I said.  I headed to the guest room Julz was staying in, following the sound of Hitch rambling.  I gave the door two firm knocks.

“Busy!” Hitch called.  I rolled my eyes and entered anyway.  She turned her head with a glare, then softened the expression when she saw it was me.  Julz was already flat on his back under the covers, hands resting behind his head.  I cracked a smile, glad he was relaxed.  Hitch stood up from her place next to him and folded her arms.  “Think you should keep Freckles waiting?”

“Only I can call him that, and I had to rescue Julz from you.” I retorted.

Julien laughed, sitting up a bit.  “It’s almost like you two never broke up.”

“If only.” Hitch winked at me.  I sighed, glancing away.  She looked back at Julz with the same smile.  “There’s still hope for me and you though, right, Julz?”

“Of course!” Julien grinned with a shrug. Hitch sashayed out of the room, content with herself. She had good reason to be; Julz cracked a smirk at me.

“Y’know, once you're devoid of energy and can't really escape anywhere else, Hitch isn't so bad to talk to.”

I half-smiled at that, and sat on the chair sitting against the wall. “Don't get too comfortable. You can’t hang around here for too long.”

“Yeah…” he sighed.  A small pause fell over us; he put his hand over his face, stressing over his situation.  “I didn’t wanna drag you into my bullshit…”

“Hey, your bullshit is my bullshit, alright? That’s just how it is.” I said firmly.  He’s my brother, and I’d help him no matter what.  “Get some sleep. I’ll figure all of this out, and get you back on your feet.”

As much as he wanted to keep worrying, I could see that he’s exhausted.  I sat quietly, waiting patiently as he drifted in and out of sleep.  I actually had an idea of who to call for help for a while now, I was just too afraid of going through with it.  At this rate, however, we’re running out of options.  Sure, it isn’t very legal what I’m doing for Julz right now, but I’m using my privilege to my advantage and reaching out for the best help.

Julien slept soundly on the guest bed, and I took the opportunity to leave the EZ chair and exit the room.  Right now, at eleven at night, house was still and quiet.  I escaped to the cozy back patio, phone in hand, and working up my nerve.

I scrolled through my contacts until I found who I was looking for; the only person financially capable of helping us at this point, my godfather, Dot Pixis.  Thinking of him as my godfather was strange, because I was about six when I last saw him.  Truth be told, he was a long time friend of my mother’s, but he and my parents ended up having a huge fight, and we severed ties with him a long time ago.  I never ever knew why I kept his phone number, or how I managed to keep up with it for this long...but the one and only thing convincing me that this wasn’t a completely stupid idea was the last thing he said to me.

_“Jean...you can always come to me.”_

I pressed the ‘call’ button and held the phone to my ear, growing more and more anxious with each ring.  What if this was a stupid mistake? After all these years and all that’s happened, why would he care about me? Maybe I should hang up...maybe this was asking too much.  Suddenly, someone picked up.  “Hello?”

I swallowed hard, not yet registering a response.  I took a seat on the lounge chair, hoping getting physically comfortable will help me with this.

“Hello? Who is this? Have you any idea what time it is?”

“P-Pixis..!” I managed, earning only a befuddled silence on the other end.  

“Yes..? And you are? If you have my personal line, you’re obviously an important person. Come on, out with it.”

“It’s me, Jean. Renee’s son…” I told him.  Another long pause followed.  

“Jean…”

Flashes of his face came flooding back to me.  Pixis was a significant part of our lives - as a close family friend - for as long as I could remember...until he suddenly stopped.  I was never clear of the details of why he and my parents fell out, but it hardly matters now.

“Mr. Pixis...sir…” I began, feeling extremely awkward already.

“Jesus Christ, son, I know it’s been a while, but this is over the top!” he interjected with a chuckle.  That honestly made me feel much better.  “You’re about sixteen now, aren’t you? And Julien is almost eighteen. How are you boys?”

My eyes widened at how accurate he was.  It’s been almost ten years.  Desperately trying to keep the conversation afloat, I responded.  “Erm...well, we’re…”

Damn, I suck at this.  Maybe it’s a little shitty of me, but I just want to fast-forward past all the stupid small talk and get to what I really want.  I was never any good at sugarcoating anything.  Fortunately, Pixis knew this about me, and it seems he never forgot.  “Where are you? What’s a boy so young doing so late?”

“I’m...I’m in school. In Stohess.” I answered.

“The Garrison, hm?” he scoffed.  Pixis - as well as my father - spent some time here when the school was a small private academy.  I gave up trying to explain the evils of this place to my parents; they’ll never believe how much it’s changed since back then.

“School sucks, but...that’s not the problem.” I began.

“Problem?”

“It’s Julien...he’s in some deep shit - er, I mean, _situation_...and I can’t protect him…” I shook my head, exasperated.

“Julien? Go ahead, son, don’t leave anything out.” he perked up, offering his undivided attention.  I was both surprised and relieved to how open he’s being to helping us.  I didn’t know much about his relationship with my parents, but although he’s been out of our lives for practically a decade, there’s something that’s kept the bridge between us intact.  The trust I felt for him back then remained the same; I just told him everything.  The cliques, Kenny Ackerman, the Survey Corps, Julien’s escape and addiction...and by the end of it all, I was absolutely certain he would hang up and never contact me again.  Still, I found the nerve to ask.

“I was just wondering, y’know...if you’d let ‘im stay with you for a while, just until I’m outta school for the summer and can figure out what to do…”

“And what do you think you’re able to do?” he inquired.

I sat there, staring into space and mulling over the question. "I don't...I'll do _something_..!"

“You boys are in more than enough trouble left to your own devices. Just focus on school, I’ll take care of Julien.”

“Y-You will?” my eyes widened.  “I...don’t know what to say…”

“You can start by saying goodnight and send me all of Julien’s information. I’ll have everything ready for him in the morning.”

“Th-That soon? That’s not too much..?” I glanced back at the dark room past the patio window.

“Don’t insult me, boy, it’s no trouble at all.” he said firmly. I may be just a dumb kid, but I know when something's a lot of trouble, and _this_ is a huge favor. Pixis' voice was calm and somber, but I still felt enormously indebted to him. After texting him everything he needed to know about Julz, I put my phone down and took a deep breath.

I exited the patio, back inside Julien's room. The breeze caused him to fidget under the blankets, trying to find another comfortable spot. I just got him back, and I'm about to send him off to be with our estranged Godfather. I had more than enough time to think this through before going through with it, but I wasn't about to. I just slipped into bed next to my brother, watching him tightly bundled up - courtesy of Hitch - and sleeping soundly.

* * *

I woke up that morning to the scent of cinnamon rolls baking.  The smell immediately woke me up; I love cinnamon rolls.  I glanced at the clock and scrambled out of bed, realizing I completely overslept.  It was half past ten - I was _two hours_ late for school! I rushed into the guest bathroom, tripping and cursing over my backpack and shoes on the floor.  I tore open the new toothbrush and travel toothpaste and attempted to ruffle my hair into something decent.

I rushed out of the room and headed down the stairs. I saw some pink suitcases at the door, but figured I would ignore it to get to the bottom of the current situation at hand. I followed the scent of breakfast and voices echoing the kitchen.  Julien, Marco, Hitch, and...someone else.

“What the hell? Why didn’t anyone wake me up?” I stormed into the kitchen.  Hitch sat closely beside Julien at the island in the middle of the kitchen, and Marco stood at the counter with a mug in hand, a little surprised at my entrance.  On the other side of the island was a woman dressed in a navy blue suit and short, reddish-brown hair.

“We kinda have school today in case anyone forgot!” I continued.

“Wow, Jean-y, never thought I’d see you so passionate about learning.” Julz snorted.  I glared at him, and flicked my eyes back to the unknown woman.

“Who’s she?”

“Ah, Jean, I’m Anka Rheinberger. I’m a direct representative of Mr. Dot Pixis.” she introduced herself.

“Anka was just filling us in on the little set up you neglected to tell us about, Jean.” Hitch frowned, holding onto Julien’s arm.  I locked eyes with this woman, Anka, and finally pieced together that she must work for Pixis.  My realization seemed obvious to her, and she began to speak.

“I’m here to accompany your brother to Mr. Pixis’ estate.”

“I never knew your Godfather was Dot Pixis...world renowned whiskey connoisseur Dot Pixis?” Hitch cleared her throat, surprised that even though _I’m_ not the richest of the rich, my connections are.

“We aren’t exactly close…” Julien said, looking a little nervous.

“Mr. Pixis is very excited to meet you again, Julien. He adamantly insisted that you experience the highest possible degree of comfort.” Anka assured him.  “Once we’ve collected your bags, we’ll head to the airport and travel to the estate, first class.”

"Man, I owe Pixis my life." I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face.

"You? I'm the junkie in debt here..." Julz scoffed.

"Nonsense. The help you'll be receiving will run as smoothly and discreetly as possible, Julien. We'll discuss all those details later, though." Anka said, focusing on something on her phone. "Our flight is in a few short hours, we'd better be on our way."

"Alright, well...is all your stuff packed?" I quickly pushed off the counter. "You oughta get changed and stuff, the sooner you're outta here, the better."

"Jean?" Marco said softly, possibly a little off put at how I was handling this. Instead of responding to anyone, I bolted upstairs to the guest room Julz and I slept in.

"Hey! I have another guest in here so try to pipe down!" Hitch called. I didn't even care to wonder who this extra guest might be. Julien followed me upstairs, awkwardly shuffling through the guest shower necessities. I threw his backpack on the bed, emptying everything out to start over.

"You suck at packing." I grumbled, tearing out all the useless junk and throwing them on the other side of the bed. I glanced up at him, wondering why he wasn't moving. "What're you waiting for? Get showered already."

"Fine, but--"

A tiny packet flopped out of his things; a small packet of white powder. Silence fell on the room as both of us just stared at it.

"Jean-y..." He said lowly, almost about to explain himself. I didn't want to hear it. I grabbed it and headed toward the bathroom. He chased after me. I reached to throw the bag in the toilet, but he grabbed my arm.

"Hey, what're you doing?!" He shrieked. I struggled with him, trying to keep him at arms length while my other arm tossed the drugs in the toilet. His body fell limp.

"I don't expect you to tell me about this. It's alright, though, I don't really hold it against you. It's over." I said shakily. He bit his bottom lip, staring at the packet float in the water. I knew exactly what he was thinking. I knew he wanted to shove his hand in this toilet and save it, because the coke was still safely resting in the sealed packet...I knew he wanted to, and it was tearing me apart. He took one look at me, and finally let go of me, stepping back and covering his eyes.

"Do it."

I flushed, watching the last of his stash swirl down the drain.  He took a deep breath, quietly grabbing a towel and heading back in the bathroom.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror before closing the bathroom door; I didn’t even realize I was crying.  Could seeing me like that be what got him to let me flush the stash..?

I quickly wiped my eyes once I heard footsteps coming in.  It was too late, though, Marco stood there watching with those big puppy eyes.  I ignored him, continuing to pack Julien’s bag for him.  I wanted him to just pretend he didn’t see me like this, but I knew he wouldn’t.

“Jean,” he began.

“I’m fine.” my voice cracked.  God damn it.  I felt him closing in on me, and no matter how much I tried, I just _had_ to sniffle.  How the hell do people just walk around like they’re alright when they’re not? I hate that Marco’s so good at that and I’m not.

“Don’t cry, okay?” I felt his hand on my arm.

I swear, that, and “Are you okay?” are fucking triggers for _anyone_ to cry! Needless to say, more tears fell.  I couldn’t even pinpoint why, they just did.  For some reason, I was just hurting.  I sighed, wiping my eyes again before I turned and buried my face in the crook of his neck.

“I promise, he’ll never forget this, and he’s gonna thank you one day.”

I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, feeling embarrassed for getting so worked up. Still, I took his words to heart and hoped he was right.

We all congregated downstairs, standing and idly chatting with Anka at the door. The pink suitcases were still there, and it seemed like everyone knew the deal with them except me. Julien came down the stairs, dressed in some snug-fitting clothes I gave him, his backpack slung on one shoulder. He didn't seem too upset about earlier anymore.

"Hey! Wait!" A high-pitched voice cried from upstairs. All eyes fell on someone I thought no one would ever see again; Historia Reiss!

"What the hell--?!" I staggered back. "When did she get here?!"

"About four this morning." Hitch folded her arms.

"Please, I'm begging," she stood in front of me. I furrowed my brows, studying her all dressed up. It seems to be _her_ suitcase at the door.  “You have to let me go to Mr. Pixis’ estate, too...just until I can--”

“Whoa, wait a minute!” I cut her off.  “Historia, a lot of people are lookin’ for you! Like, _cops_ n’ shit! I can’t just smuggle you into my estranged Godfather’s house, that’s kinda kidnapping!”

“I have no where else to go! Everyone already knows who I am, and if I go home, I’ll be forced to marry some... _guy_!” she cried, staring at me with those big blue eyes.

“Look, maybe if you talk to your folks, then…” I tried to reason with her, but she wasn’t having it.  She - and surprisingly Marco spoke up at the same time.

“It won’t matter!”

I furrowed my brows at Marco beside me, who cleared his throat and glanced off.  Before I could think anymore about it, Historia reeled me back with her pleading.

“You have to help me, Jean…”

“If I may,” Anka cut in.  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline taking both Julien _and_ you, Miss Reiss. It’s just too risky of a move. Don’t blame Jean, this is my call. I understand these situations can be tough, but I hope you find some sort of compromise…”

Historia dropped her head, looking totally and utterly lost.  Looking at her made me think of Ymir, and how she’d be someone who’d be happy to have her back.  Hitch sighed, walking over to her luggage at the door.

“Just stay with me a while. Jean'll help you figure something out since he's being so selfish."

I glared at Hitch, then back at Historia, offering a look that I would try, but I didn't say anything out of fear of making any promises.

"I guess this is goodbye, guys." Julien cleared his throat with a shrug.

"We'll see each other again, Julz." Marco gave him a quick hug. When they parted, my brother turned to me, pursing his lips as if he needed to say something but couldn't.

“Julz…” I began, trying to focus on him instead of how close I am to crying again.

“Can I...ask you to do something else for me, Jean-y? Please?” He blurted out. I was silent, a little surprised at how difficult he was making this. “On your holiday break...Maybe you could come over to...see how I'm doing?”

I stood there, at a loss. Of _course_ I would, but how would I run that by my parents? Not to mention Marco and I already made holiday plans. I glanced at him, seeing that he was visibly disappointed.

“I mean, y’know, Marco can come, too, if he can…” Julz shrugged.

“I'll definitely go.” Hitch scoffed. Ignoring her, Julien continued.

“I won't lie to you, little bro, this fucking sucks. I'm in pain every day and to have to get over my problem with a family I barely know anymore is /really gonna suck...so if I could just have something to look forward to…”

“Yeah.” I confirmed, stopping him before I could hear any more painful details. “I'll come see you.”

“I love you, man.” He yanked me into his arms and squeezed me hard. I squeezed back, just thankful this was finally over.

I was a little curious of what would happen to Historia after Julz left, but I didn't hear anything else out of her. More importantly, we had to get back on campus before we get into more trouble.

A weight was lifted off of my shoulders now that I know my brother is in safe hands. Pixis just made me feel at ease, and surprisingly, he made Julien comfortable enough to go as well. I had no idea how I was going to handle my parents once they find out I'm not coming home this Christmas, but I didn't have much time to figure it out.

We hitched a cab back to campus; the cold, grey skies and dead trees surrounding the building just sucked the life right out of me.  Since we missed out on school, I wanted to head back to the dorm and lay in bed for the rest of the day, but I decided to accompany Marco to his locker to collect his books so we can catch up on anything we missed.

Maybe I’ve gone a little crazy, but it seems like every time we go to Marco’s locker, weird shit always happens.  The feeling was settling in my gut as we walked there, but now that we’re here, I regret not listening to it.

“Aw, gross!" Marco shrieked, staggering back. I gagged at the sight of bloody tampons hanging by strings of dental floss, dripping onto his books and supplies.

My mind immediately jumped to Kenny Ackerman, but he was a sadist who liked to watch his plans unfold.

"What the fuck is this?!" I jerked my head around, hoping to see him there, but he wasn't, and everyone else was either laughing or sickened, completely caught off guard.

"Jean..." Marco called, cautiously holding a napkin with two fingers. I tilted my head, seeing just a pink kiss mark on it. That kind of signature only came from the matriarch, Ymir and her crew of pushers.

"Shit..." I cursed, totally not in the mood to face off with her.

"Ha! Good, now that you idiots pissed off Ymir, she can pick you off so we don't have to!" A familiar voice cackled. It was my old roommate, Connie Springer, and of course, Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover weren't far behind. The jocks were unfortunately making their way through the halls and caught us in the middle of a gross prank.

"Poor new kid." Connie hummed with an evil smirk.

"Nah, that nickname's wasted on a dweeb like him. We gotta new, New Kid." Reiner folded his arms, turning his head to a tall, tan, brunette boy whom I’ve never seen before.  I sized him up, and although I knew I wouldn’t like him simply because he fit in with the Jocks, there was something about him I utterly disdained for some reason.  Although, he hardly noticed me...he had his eyes fixated on Marco.

“This here’s Sam. Samuel Linke-Jackson, maybe you've heard of him?" Bertholdt tilted his head at us, almost condescendingly.

"Can't say I have, or that I care." I sneered.

"Well, you oughta! His Dad’s a big shot plastic surgeon and probably did one of your mom’s face lifts."

I rolled my eyes.  I wouldn’t put it past my mother, but Connie didn’t have to know that.

"He's our newest baseball star. The only new kid that matters.” Reiner said as the new boy, Samuel gave a smirk...particularly to Marco.  Although Marco was never particularly vocal in these situations, he was eerily quiet, and I was certain it’s because of this new kid.

“A scrawny track star, a meter pole basketball star, a dipshit quarterback and now a whack ass baseball player. Congratulations, you’ve graduated from shit-trio to a douche-quartet.” I scoffed, earning some snickers from onlooking students.  “Any particular reason this lame introduction was necessary?”

“You're in the way of Sam's locker, Horseface." Reiner closed in on me and gave me a shove.

"I _really_ ain't in the mood, jarhead." I stood my ground, preparing for a fight. Despite kids crowding around the lockers, they soon dispersed from confusion as Marco left his locker wide open and bolted out of the crowd.

"Marco?" I called, only to fall on his deaf ears. This Samuel kid watched Marco scurry away, not even noticing me stare him down.  Thankfully, Marco stopped right outside the school entrance.  It seemed snow fell from the top ledge and onto his head and he stopped to dust it off.

“Marco, hey!” I finally caught up to him.  He couldn’t even look at me; he turned and continued getting the stuff out of his hair.  I spun him around.  “What was that about?”

“What?” he looked away from me.

“Don’t do that. What’d I say about keeping shit from me?” I said sternly.  His face contorted at that statement, and I cursed myself for further upsetting him.  I shook my head, taking a breath.  “Look, I just...you avoided that new Jock like the plague…you two know eachother or somethin’?”

He stared down at the ground.  “Yeah.”

“Hah?” my eyebrow arched, awaiting his explanation.  Getting anything out of Marco was always like pulling teeth, but something about this guy made him cringe with anxiety, it was almost as if he was embarrassed, even.

“It’s him. The boy from my old school I got into trouble over…” he mumbled.  

My mouth fell open.  “ _That’s him?!_ ” I scoffed.  I stepped back, at a loss.  “Sam? The... _asshole_ who got you put in here in the first place!?”

“Jean…” Marco sighed, not wanting me to start.

“The first love of your life who just so happens to also be _locker neighbors_ with you - ain't that a thing?!” I quarreled.

“Will you stop..?!” Marco shushed.

“What’s he here for!?” I grunted.  Once I took a single step, about to get another look at this mysterious ex of his, but Marco grabbed my arm and yanked me away from the mere thought.

“Jean, seriously, let it go, alright?”

I glanced down at how tightly he was holding my arm, then back into his eyes.  What the hell did this guy put him through to make him so worked up at the sight of him? To make matters worse, the Jocks flooded outside, possibly headed to the gym.  Reiner and his lackeys didn’t care to bother us anymore, but Sam made a point to stare us down and let us know he had us in his sights - no, that he had _Marco_ in his sights.  

Marco seemed to feel his presence, and immediately turned away, almost shrinking.  I gritted my teeth, locking eyes with the tall, dark-haired douchebag; what else could I do? At this point, I’d _gladly_ start shit with the Jocks, just to get a chance to take a swing at him.  How dare he reduce Marco to such a state?

“Bodt,” a voice called, snapping me out of my rage.  Principal Smith approached us, arms crossed and a stern look on his face.  “I’m told you’ve got a situation with your locker?”

“S-Sorry...someone played a prank on me.” Marco shook his head, trying to shake off his anxiety.

“You expect me to believe that?” Mr. Smith tilted his head.

“Uh, yes? Do either of us look like we use tampons?” Marco answered.

“Listen, just deal with it, and I won’t punish the two of you for missing school _again_.” he ordered, scurrying after a couple of kids fighting in the courtyard.  Once he was out of sight, I turned to Marco, who was still a little shaken up, but pulled himself together with a sigh.

“I'd better get going before the library closes.”

“Go ahead, I’ll catch you later.” I started walking.  He caught my hand, causing me to stop and look back.

“Where’re you going?”

“Don't worry, I’m just gonna go tell Ymir how much I enjoyed her little joke.” I said.

“Alone?”

I thought a moment, realizing that I do tend to wander into dangerous territory like this alone, but it’s just how I like to handle things.  I never liked this clique-y way of confronting my enemies with five other guys backing me up; although I might get the shit beaten out of me, I didn’t care.

“You got Snapper?”

He blinked, possibly still wanting an answer to his previous question.  “In my backpack…”

I placed my hand on his freckled cheek, squeezing them a little.  “If that prick tries to talk to you, stares at you, or even tries to _breathe_ in your direction...you call me, you got that?”

“I'll be fine. I won't give you an excuse.” He cracked a small smile. That's fortunate for Sam, because Marco obviously knew I wanted to kill him.

I left, headed to the abandoned school bus behind the parking lot, the Burnouts turf.  As my boots crunched through the snowy campus, I pulled out my cellphone and made a phone call.  The more it rang, the more irritated I got.

“Yo.”

“Thomas, where are you guys?” I demanded.

“Burger Shack.” he answered.

“Again? Have you been to class at all this week?” I inquired.

“Uhh…” he hummed over the sound of a crinkling food wrapper.

“Look, whatever, I need you back here. I’m gonna be busy today so I need you to watch out for Marco while I’m gone.” I said.  “I’ll tell you more later, but...there’s alot out to get him right now.”

“Aw shit, son! Can do.” Thomas cackled between chews.

By the time that conversation ended, the abandoned bus was right in front of me.  The dumpy part of the school the burnouts liked to hang out in seemed too quiet.  They must have been waiting for me.  I thought of Sasha, whom I still have under my finger because of her secret thing with Connie...right? And the deal I made with Annie is still valid, right..? I shook my head, thinking only about how I’d handle the confrontation with Ymir.

“Ah! There he is!" Her voice echoed through the small lot. I looked over, seeing she, Sasha, and Annie huddled in one of the old storage garages with the busted door. A humble fire was between the three of them, keeping them warm. She and Annie relaxed with cigarettes while Sasha roasted marshmallows.  Ymir stood up, bundling herself up in her worn leather jacket, almost as if she was welcoming me.  I ignored the intimidating tactic.

"You guys look like hobos." I cracked a smile. Of course, none of the other burnout bums hanging around thought it was funny, but despite wanting to jump me right then and there, they stood still once Ymir started chuckling.

"Very funny! Almost as funny as the menstrual sponges your boyfriend's got hangin' in his locker, right?"

"More like fuckin' disgusting. What's your problem with me?!" I got serious.

"First of all, relax, as much as I wanted _actual_ period blood, we ain’t exactly synced up that way, know what I mean?” She snickered, holding her hands up. "Secondly, I don't exactly like how my cousin's address got into your hands."

My initial reaction was to glance at Annie, who pretended to be just as unknowing.  I expected her to react somehow or atleast look up, but she didn’t.  Ymir was in my face, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Pay attention when I’m talkin’ to you, Haircut.”

“Look, Marco was in that hellhole you used to supply in. He heard you and Julz talking.” I told her.

“Bullshit. I would’ve seen ‘im. Nothing gets passed me.” she hissed.

“Aside from that _and_ us getting your cousin’s address, of course.” I shrugged.  An uncomfortable silence fell; all eyes were on Ymir and how she would handle it.  As she usually did in times of distress, she laughed.

“A comedian, this guy.” she wagged her finger at me, looking at her boys.  I sighed, glancing at the time; I really didn’t want to be out here for too long.

“It’s fine, Ymir, you slipped up a little, but we’re not trying to--”

**_BLAM_ **

I blacked out for a split second, not even feeling myself crash onto the ground yet.  I felt the freezing chill of the snow on the back of my head, along with a throbbing sensation on my forehead.  Ymir just headbutted the living hell out of me, and since I wasn’t planning on making any sudden movements yet, I had no idea what she’d do next.

“You think just ‘cause you ran through Thomas and Marlowe that you’re hot shit? Think you can tell me how to operate here? I’m bigger than this petty school clique, Kirschstein! I’m gonna be a boss, you got me?!” she bellowed.  “Most of these scumbags have been cut off from their families - that’s why they’re here. I’m giving them a future! You don’t get to tell me that my slip ups are fine, ‘cause I _don’t_ slip up.”

“Shit…” I groaned, slowly lifting myself into a sitting position.  I held my freezing hand to my head, looking up at the burnout queen, sensing something off with her.  I glanced at her underlings, and they wanted to appear calm, but they seemed to be a bit on edge at how Ymir was acting.

 _“She’s been insanely paranoid these days…”_ I remember Annie telling me.  I looked over at Annie and she seemed to give me a look that said _“I wasn’t kidding.”_

“Alright, fine, I ain’t tellin’ you what to do...I’m just tellin’ you that Marco and I only went over there for Julien.” I stood up, brushing the snow off of me.

“You gotta have some kind of inkling as to what kinda life Ilse lives. She can’t just have people walkin’ in on her like that! She’s too spooked to live here anymore, so she’s ditching this town and who has to tie up her loose ends? Me!” Ymir started pacing.  “D’you have any idea what that fucking means? She was my connect! With her gone, I got no supply, no buyers, no fucking _money_!”

“Ymir…” Sasha stood, trying to level her out a little.  My stomach sank a little, anchoring me to the gravity of what I just did to these guys.  I tried to find the words to begin to apologize for screwing her like this, especially after trying to help my brother, but the headbutt she gave me earlier was killing me.

“Sorry, it’s just…” she sighed, heeding Sasha’s warning to calm down.  “I guess I can’t be too pissed off. My Uncle’s getting outta the joint soon, but by the time he does that and gets here, we’ll already be smack dab in the middle of Christmas break!”

“Hey, no worries, boss, I’ve spent holidays at the Garrison before, it’s not all that bad..!” Sasha tried to make light of it.  Ymir didn’t even respond to her.  She pulled some smokes out of her pocket as an underling rushed to light it for her.

I tried to level with her.  “Alright, so...your new supplier is gonna be a few weeks late…until then, maybe we can--”

“Y’know, I get it, Jean. I threw your brother into that stuff, got ‘im fucked up. Of course you’d hate me for it.” she cut me off again, blowing smoke out.  “But to this extent? You’re forcing my hand, and you’re _really_ gonna regret it…”

“You’re right. I am new to all this stupid ass clique shit...but I’m just like you, y’know. I’m just tryna skate by, here.”

“Are you? Unlike me, you’ve still got a hell of a lot to lose.” she locked eyes with me.  As I stared into those brown eyes, I began to wonder just what about her was so out of whack.  She usually doesn’t slip up, she always kept her cool, and wasn’t ever really prone to paranoid outbursts like this.  She blew more smoke, still pacing.  “Like that pretty boyfriend of yours. I know what it’s like for another person to make you so vulnerable...especially when they’re so accessible.”

There it was, the only thing capable of clouding Ymir’s crystal-clear judgement: Historia.

“I figured you took her leaving pretty hard…”

Just like that, her entire demeanor changed, all from the minor inkling that I /might know something.  Of course, as fucking fate would have it, I met Historia again just this morning...

“Everyone, beat it.” she ordered, still glaring at me.

They all hesitated a little, but slowly moved out of the storage and out toward the old bus.  I wondered how much drugs they all had left, and once they were out what they would do once their leverage over the other cliques began to wither..?

Once we were alone, she dropped her cigarette and crushed it under her foot.  “Where is she?”

“Why’d you ask them to leave? Don’t they know?” I inquired.

“Are you fucking kidding? If they knew I have a thing for some privileged blue-blood they’ll never respect me.” she scoffed, glancing off.  I rolled my eyes, and upon seeing this she further explained.  “They’re the only family I’ve got, alright? Listen, I don’t have to tell any of you one-percenters shit about fucked up families, but an organized crime family is a thin fucking line, alright? Being gay and head over heels over an insanely famous heiress sure ain’t doin’ me any favors.”

“Doesn’t stop you from wanting to know, does it?” I replied.  She paused, knowing damn well she wanted to be with Historia again, but just scoffed up a smile, stepping back.

“Nope, but it should. She left me. Nothin' to do now but move on, right?"

“Well, yeah, because--”

“I’ve gotta get my shit together, starting with takin’ care of you.” she growled.  “Now get lost while you still can. I’m only givin’ you a chance to run along and get your dukes up ‘cause you’re Julien’s brother.”

I skipped dinner, laying in bed in the room.  My phone rested on my stomach, waiting for any updates on Julien and Pixis.  I also wanted to call Historia and ask her to talk her crazy girlfriend out of destroying me, but after what I said to her this morning, there’s no way she’d even speak to me.

Although I was tired from what I’ve been through today, I was _still_ worried about what happened with those Jocks earlier today, mainly Marco and Sam.  He hasn’t come in yet, or texted me at all, and it was beginning to bug me.  When Marco and I first met, he was hardly aware of his blackouts, and tried his hardest to block out the memory of why he came here...but that guy Sam awakened an anger in him that he’s ashamed of.  Sometimes I wish I could see what Marco did to Sam’s father, how he brutalized his car and went after him...I don’t know why.  I couldn’t fathom Marco getting that worked up over someone...being so crazy about another person, it got him into a place like this…

I gave into my rapid thoughts and called Hitch to meet me here.

“Where’ve you been all day? D’you know how much I had to pay some idiot to clean out Marco’s locker?” she came into my room.

“It wasn’t even real blood.” I mumbled.

“Would’ve been nice to know before I shat out $300.” she scoffed, taking a seat at my desk.  “What? You that scared of that bum Ymir?”

“You seen that new kid? Sam?” I got straight to it.  She blinked a couple times, then shrugged.

“Reiner just took that kid under his wing. He and Bertl are so inseparable, but it's like he’s always tryna make him jealous.”

I rolled my eyes, not caring about Reiner and Bertholdt’s relationship.  “What d’you know about ‘im?”

“Well, nothing, really. We’ve got History together. His parents are pretty up the ladder with cosmetic surgery. Heard he got busted for drunk driving over Thanksgiving break.” she answered.

“You think that alliance between you and the Jocks is salvageable?” I inquired.

“What? You want to ally with the _Jocks_?” she scooted closer to my bed with a sly smile.  “I mean, you _did_ royally ruin that party...but what your angle, Kirschstein?”

“I just wanna watch them. With how things have been progressing for us, I know they’re doing the same.” I said.  Hitch gave me a frown.  She knew me better than that.  I sighed and fessed up.  “Sam...is Marco’s ex.”

“Hmm.” she hummed, the smile crept back onto her face.  “Now I get it. That crazy loyalty is what I’ve always loved about you.”

I ignored her comment and continued.  “We’re gonna make ‘em think you guys severed ties with me. Then you’ll get closer, _especially_ to Sam. I wanna know everything there is to know about that prick, but Marco can’t know shit about that, alright?”

She tilted her head.  “He can’t? But it’s got everything to do with him.”

“Let me handle Marco.” I insisted.  She paused, resting her face on her palm with that smile on her face.

“You and Marco...should communicate more. Just...all cards on the table, no secrets.” she stood up, glancing away.

“Marco’s a pretty tight-lipped guy, but he tells me everything.” I assured her.

“Can I ask you a weird question, Jean?” she sat down on the bed next to me.  “What if...what if Historia and Marco switched places? What if Marco’s parents had arranged for him to marry a girl..?”

The thought was so ridiculous, I almost laughed.  Upon seeing this reaction, she frowned.  Maybe she was disappointed in my not taking this seriously, but how could I? Marco loves me, and would _never_ leave me out of that loop.  I was too preoccupied in how unbelievable it was, I didn’t even bother processing a possible reaction.  It just wouldn’t happen.

“Marco’s parents are insane, but c’mon.” I scoffed. She furrowed her eyebrows, and I thought for a moment that she might have been holding something back. I couldn't get into it, though; Marco just came back.

“Thanks for all your help today, Thomas, _really_.” He called sarcastically. Once he saw Hitch here and processed the silence between us, he went a little pale.

“What's going on?” He asked abruptly.

“I was just leaving.” Hitch cleared her throat nervously.  The two of them locked eyes as Hitch tensely walked out of the room.

“What’s with you two?” I inquired.  He snapped out of his daze and turned to me.

“Nothing...more importantly, what’s with you ordering Thomas and his boys to follow me around all day?”

I patted the spot on the bed beside me, signaling him to sit down.  He complied, eager to hear my explanation.  I crawled out of my spot and laid my head on his lap, getting comfortable after such a long day.  He cracked a smile and ruffled my hair.  I closed my eyes and proceeded to tell him all about what we’d actually done to Ymir’s faction, and how we really need to watch our backs.  I also told him about my plans for the Jocks, and, understandably, he was a little less okay with that.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Sam, would it?” he held my face in his palms toward his.  Of course it is.  Although, to prevent him from lying about how much he’s alright with that asshole being here, I gave another answer.

“Once those jerks get wind of how badly we knocked Ymir down, they’ll feel threatened. I just wanna keep us safe.”

I sat up to look directly at him.  I placed a hand on his cheek, admiring that signature angelic look of his.  “I wanna keep you safe.” I said before leaning in to kiss him.  I like to think that I’m tough as nails, but I have to give Marco some credit.  There have been so many times where I would’ve lost it if he weren’t here for me, and I’m not gonna protect him.

He pulled away with a nervous laugh.  “What’s gotten into you?”

“Just some stupid thing Hitch said…” I shook my head, smiling at the sound of his laugh.

“What’d she say?” he demanded.  The sudden change in his tone snapped me out of my light mood as well.  The way he was staring at me told me to answer.

“Just...some weird hypothetical about you being in Historia’s ‘arranged marriage’ situation. Crazy, right?” I laughed, giving him a light shove.  He looked as if he’d stopped breathing.  Once he caught on to how quiet he’s been, he snapped back to reality and forced out a laugh.

“R-Right...could you imagine..!?” he grabbed my shoulders.  I was a little startled at how erratic he suddenly became.  He yanked me into a playful hug.  “Forget some girl, how could I love anyone other than you?”

I cracked a smile, ignoring my face heating up from embarrassment.  I held him back, taking in his scent, ignoring all the negativity from today.  Marco was the only one I could trust.

“Man, you’re a sap...hey--! Don’t tickle me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the unexpected hiatus. Life, you know? But on a lighter note, we covered SO much ground now!
> 
> Julien is off to get better and back to his old self! This is all Jean EVER wanted tbh, but now look what happens as a result. :/ Don't think this is the last you'll hear of Pixis~  
> Ymir is the BAE and I enjoy writing my rendition of her and the rest of the Burnouts. Even I don't know how we'll resolve everything before their holiday break! D:  
> And above all else, Marco's ex boo is attending the Garrison already at the top of the chain! Sheesh.. :)  
> Thanks for reading guys!


	25. The Search

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Part 1 of 2!)  
> Where's bae??

Marco

 

 

The conversation I had with Jean last night was way too uncomfortable. I thought I wouldn't be able to sleep well, but here I am, just waking up at noon because I can’t be bothered to face my problems.   I vaguely remember talking to Jean earlier this morning, and since I'm here and he's not, I was beginning to muster up some serious anxiety about perhaps saying something to him that I shouldn't have. His phone was sitting on the nightstand, and I wondered if he left it by accident or if he didn't want me to contact him…then again, my engagement to Mina is making me increasingly paranoid.

I got out of bed and got ready for the day.  On my way out, I grabbed my backpack as well as Jean’s cellphone.  Before leaving, I took a look at his phone, wondering if there was anything incriminating of me in there...I shook my head, knowing I shouldn’t try to invade on his privacy like this.  Still, I saw my face on his lock screen and couldn’t help but wonder how many other creep-pictures he took of me.

Passcode prevented me from finding out, unfortunately.

I frowned a little and put it back into my pocket.  Sunday afternoons at the Garrison only seemed calm...but in actuality, they were the prime time of the week for any shenanigans to ensue.  I tried to keep my head down as I headed into the main building for lunch; perhaps I’d find some answers in the cafeteria.

I spotted Thomas and his boys sitting at the far end of the cafeteria and decided to sit with them.  I traded my pizza for their meatloaf, mashed potatoes and other gluten-free foods I was too late to grab in line.  Fortunately, they had a lead on where my missing boyfriend could be.

“He was headed to some Chemistry make-up class.” Dazz shrugged.  “Pfft, classes on the weekend? That shit’s inhumane.”

“Which is why it’s optional.” I chuckled.  “Oh, where’s Franz?”

“That’s what I wanna know. He still hangin’ out with that nerdy girlfriend of his?” Thomas asked Dazz, who responded with a shrug.

“Hannah? You know about that?” I turned to Thomas.

“He thinks I don’t, but he’s so obvious. When we used to prank the girls of Armin’s faction, he’d never do anything to her.” Thomas scoffed, taking a big bite of his pizza.  “He doesn’t have to sneak around, I don’t really care who you guys date.”

“If only every figurehead thought like you, Thomas.” I cracked a smile at him.  He let out a belch in response.  I was about to say something else, but Dazz cut me off.

“Hey, isn’t that Hitch? What’s she doin’ with those Jocks?”

I turned and saw Hitch laughing with Reiner and Connie, and immediately felt uneasy. Jean told me about his plan to get closer to the Jocks to gain the upper hand on them, and I still don't know how I feel about it. So far, we’ve gotten by just minding our own business and not worrying about the other cliques...I couldn't help but wonder what made Jean change his pace. 

“Thanks for the help, guys, I’ll catch you later.” I stood up and made my way over there.

She caught me looking and turned so they wouldn't be facing me. I stayed put since I needed to talk. When Connie and Reiner walked away, she waited until they were completely out of sight to approach me.

“Listen, Marco, I know it's weird for you to see me talking to those Jocks like that, but…” She dragged me to the far end of the hallway. 

“Don't worry, Jean already told me.” I shook my head. 

She rolled her eyes and sighed in relief. “Ugh, thank god. I don't think I could have thought up a lie on the spot like that…”

I frowned, ignoring her comment and getting to what I needed to say. “Why would you tell Jean something like that!?”

“Like what? I just said you two oughta communicate more.” She shrugged, placing her hands on her hips.

“Gee, nothing to read into there.” I said sarcastically. “I know you want him back but this is a little low.”

“Calm down, Marco, Sheesh!” She burst out laughing. “First of all, Jean’s not nearly as intuitive as you're making him out to be. Secondly, I have enough class to give up when I've lost.”

I sighed, looking away. “Sorry, it's just--”

“Hey, I get it. Jean’s a catch, you don't wanna mess that up...” She nodded. After a pause, she shrugged. “But you're really messing it up.”

“I'm just trying to time this right, okay?” I sighed, feeling stressed out already.

She rolled her eyes and turned. “Whatever. Look, I can't exactly be seen with you if I'm gonna try allying with these stupid 'roid monkeys.”

I nodded, turning around and headed to my locker. I smiled to myself, thankful Hitch cleaned it out and got me new books. That light feeling in my head wouldn't last, though. 

“Marco?” A voice called. I looked over, seeing Samuel Linke-Jackson, the boy who shattered my heart and ruined me. Anxiety coiled in my gut, and I couldn't wait to get away from him. He closed in on me. “Don't tell me you plan on ignoring me forever.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” I mumbled, slamming my locker shut. I can't believe we’re locker neighbors.

“Y’know, I...was a little disappointed not to see you managing at tryouts…” He cleared his throat. I was suddenly brought back to when I used to manage baseball at our old school...the day I first saw him. I shook my head and kept walking; it was all in the past, and no longer mattered. He followed, still trying to talk. “I mean--c’mon, Marco, who are you tryna fool with this..?”

Just being around him for this long made me explode. “With _what?!_ You're one to talk about trying to fool anyone. What, you dating a bunch of /girls and pretending to be straight? Still trying to be everything daddy wants you to be? How is he by the way? Did he fix up the car I trashed or did he replace it?”

Sam closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I figured you're still sore about all that…”

“It _ruined_ my _life_.” I glared at him, clenching my teeth at every word.  It made me sick to see him act like the bigger person about this.  “It's alright, I only have myself to blame for putting up with you for that long.” I tried to walk away again. He caught up with me again and grabbed my arm.

“Marco, please,”

“What do you want?!” I shoved off of him.

“I wanna apologize.” He said firmly. I furrowed my brows, frozen in place. He took my arm and continued. “I came out to my dad and...of course that didn't go well. Long story short, I started acting out and he decided to put me in here. To be honest, I...was a little glad because you'd be here…”

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and tried to leave again. He stood there, shocked at my icy response. I continued on my way, genuinely indifferent about his feelings on the matter. He collected himself and caught up to me _again_.

“Look, I always felt shitty about how I treated you. I want your forgiveness...I wanna give us another shot...” He said. Those words shook me to the core, and caused my body to boil with anger. Instead of realizing that he should stop talking, he just continued. “Forget about that other dude you're with, I know he's just a rebound anyway.”

“Stay away from me, Sam. I wouldn't get back together with you if your _life_ depended on it. If you talk to me again, _especially_ about Jean, you'll regret it.” I threatened, thankful my voice wasn't shaking. I spun around and quickly walked away, not even caring about him or his reaction. I just had to get away from him.  It's one thing that he wants to apologize, but he wants to get back together? Did he hit his head or something?

I sought refuge in Ms. Hanji’s class.  To my surprise, Mr. Ackerman was casually seated on top of a desk, donned in all black. I hadn't entered the room yet, and neither of them noticed me. It seems like they're wrapped up in a deep conversation.

“Oh, don’t act like you’re trying to avoid Erwin. You _did_ show up here in person…” Hanji scoffed with a smile.

“I felt bad that I never gave Petra her recommendation letter...that’s all.” he looked away with folded arms.  “What’s with everyone always bringing up that asshole…”

“You’re always dressed for a funeral, just reminding you that he isn’t dead…” Hanji gave a sheepish smile.  

Mr. Ackerman shot her a glare.  “He is to me.” 

She shook her head and got back to her work on her computer.  “Sure. It’s obvious that you miss him, too.”

“Doesn’t mean anything.” he grumbled. “I gave that stupid prick everything and he shits on it. He puts the goddamn _woman_ on the pedestal. Tch, what'd I expect…”

Did Vice Principal Ackerman just admit to being in love with and missing Principal Smith? To _Ms. Hanji?_ I shouldn't eavesdrop, but how could I not?

“Now I'm not a believer in second chances…” Ms. Hanji began. Before she could even finish, Mr. Ackerman rolled his eyes and turned away. She continued before he could completely tune it out.  “But from an unbiased point of view, he seems to have learned his lesson. I think he's going to call off the engagement.”

“Bullshit.” Mr. Ackerman scoffed, looking at Hanji for confirmation. She simply nodded her head and continued.

“I mean it. He's a mess, Levi. And although you're a professional at hiding it, you are, too.” she said.  He folded his arms and pouted.  "Besides, this school is going down the crapper, his engagement will be one of many things to go."

"Tch, so I'll be who he crawls back to when he has nothing? No thanks." Mr. Ackerman said bitterly.

"Ugh, that's not how I meant it!" 

“You knew about them, Ms. Hanji?” I finally entered the room.

“Jesus fuck..!” Mr. Ackerman jerked around, totally taken by surprise. I offered a sheepish smirk as a sort of apology for startling him, but he simply frowned and turned back to his unlikely friend. I knew he didn’t work here anymore, but when my eyes meet his cold dark glare, a shiver still ran through me.

“Hey, shut the door, will ya?” he asked.  Noticing how uneasy he seemed once I walked in, I did as he told me.

“Eh, How anyone else _didn't_ know is beyond me.” she scoffed up a laugh.

“Leave something for my pride, will ya, Shitty-Glasses?” He gave an exasperated sigh.

“So, Marco, what can I do for you?” She asked.

“Ms. Hanji, would you happen to know where Jean went..?” I inquired.  She blinked, giving me a befuddled look.

“Should I know..?”

“He was here, wasn’t he? For your extra credit session?” my eyebrows furrowed.  I glanced at the sign-up sheet once I got closer to her desk, seeing Jean’s name wasn’t on it.  She shook her head, confirming that he wasn’t here.

“Sorry. Try asking Kenny Ackerman; I saw the two of them talking at breakfast earlier today.”

Kenny??

I bolted out of the classroom without another word.  I had half a mind to pull out my phone and actually contact Kenny, but I wasn’t that desperate yet.  I don’t know why I was so anxious to find him in the first place, I just had a strange feeling in my gut.

What were he and Jean talking about?

Knowing Jean’s temper, could he have been lured into some kind of trap?

Why don’t I have a single clue as to where he could be right now??

The first place I thought to look was his - formerly _my_ \- dorm room.  As soon as I got back to the dorms, I spotted Jocks lounging in the common room.  I had to walk past the open doorway to get to Kenny’s room.  Just great.  Reiner sat on the couch in front of the TV with Sam, and I couldn’t help but notice how close they were sitting next to eachother.  I mean, Reiner was the one slightly rested against Sam, but it was pretty noticeable.  Bertholdt was playing the arcade game, probably trying to beat all my high scores.  Finally, Connie was sitting at the table against the wall, eyes seriously glued to his phone.  I had to buy my time and pass when I was _sure_ they were all distracted.

“Bertl, you should come watch TV. Quit nerding out over that game!” Reiner called.

“I’ve seen that rerun of Jerry Springer atleast twice before. Maybe Sam hasn’t seen it.” Bertholdt casually responded.  I could only see the couch from behind, thus only seeing the back of Reiner and Sam’s heads as opposed to seeing Bertholdt’s profile.  Reiner silently fumed as Sam awkwardly looked on.

“Just thought you’d wanna spend your time before practice watching reruns you thoroughly enjoyed before.” Reiner spat back.

“Oh, ‘thoroughly’, very expansive vocabulary you developed.” Bertholdt continued.  “Whatever. Things change.”

Reiner folded his arms, continuing the passive-aggressive banter.  “Gee, I wonder what.”

“Try whom.” Bertholdt quickly retorted.

Possibly out of comebacks, Reiner threw an old couch cushion at the head of the tall brunette.  The game he was playing beeped loudly, signaling the game was lost.  Despite everything else, _this_ was when he got mad.  He spun around and chucked the cushion back.

“If you wanna say something, just say it!”

“I should be saying that to you.” Reiner stood up, towering above Sam.

“For fuck’s sake - will you two just kiss and makeup already!?” Connie finally spoke, putting his phone down. Bertholdt and Reiner calmed down some, realizing they must have been acting pretty crazy for _Connie_ to say something. Bertholdt just went back to his game, and Reiner turned the focus onto Connie.

“What bug crawled up your ass?”

“Forget it.” The short boy just shook his head. Reiner thought a moment, then stood up and walked over to the table Connie was sitting at.

“Con, everyone likes to start rumors about us, but there's a rather consistent one about you that I wanna clear the air about…”

“Huh?” Connie arched an eyebrow, a little surprised to see the large blonde towering over him at the table.

“You and potato girl...you're not _really_ a thing, are you?” Reiner scoffed, as if it were some silly joke he needed Connie to confirm. “I mean, we’re somewhat cool with them now, but we can't show any vulnerability bein’ soft on one of ‘em - you know that.”

“Yeah, dude, I know.” Connie huffed, getting up from the table. He pushed past Reiner. “So Sasha’s kinda hot, what can I say?”

“And I thought the same about Historia,” Reiner folded his arms. Bertholdt followed with a disapproving scoff.

“Yeah - _you_ like Historia, a girl, whatever you say.” He mumbled.

Reiner snapped his head back to Bertholdt at the arcade machine. “Gettin’ real sick of your mouth, Bertl!”

“A first.” Bertholdt retorted. I held my hand to my mouth to keep quiet after that. These two are so very obviously a thing, but there's something holding them back and putting them at each other's throats…

“Look, I’d never _seriously_ date her, alright?” Connie diffused the situation. All eyes were on him as he moved further away from the group. “Connie Springer would never seriously date _anybody_.”

I rolled my eyes. I figured I would just skip out and come back to check Kenny’s room later, but when I opened the door to head back outside, Connie spotted me.

I tried to quickly move away, but he burst out of the double doors, locking me in his sights. I groaned, knowing I could never hope to outrun him.  The slim track star grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to look at him. 

“Hey! Where's your shitty horse?!” He demanded.

“That's what i’d like to know.” I fixed my shirt from where he grabbed it.

“Don't play dumb with me!” He shouted. “I saw ‘im with her!”

“With who..?” I blinked.

“I saw him with my girl!” He whisper-shouted, mindful of listening ears. I zoned out, wondering what Jean was doing with Sasha...she's supposed to be trying to hurt him, right? Connie angrily started pacing. “They were hangin’ all over each other and went into town together. I wanna know where they went.”

“Your girl, huh? I thought Connie Springer doesn't seriously date anybody.” I folded my arms.  He gave me a befuddled look, possibly wondering how I knew that, then reverted to his fit of rage.

“Don't fuck with me!” Connie yanked me down by the collar to his level. He was still pretty intimidating for a boy at 5’2; shorter people are _never_ the ones you want to mess with. Fortunately for me, an egg was pelted against Connie’s bald head. The impact caused him to let me go, and I stumbled back a good enough distance from the yolk splatter on my face.

“What the _fuck_ -?!” Connie swiped the egg off of his head. 

“Let's go, Marco!” A voice called. I turn, seeing Eren Jaeger on a bike, a carton of eggs sat in the front basket.

“Jaeger you piece of shit!” Connie exploded, about to take off after us. I turned and hopped on the back of Eren’s bike, and he started pedaling. I caught a glimpse of Mikasa Ackerman appear and kick in Connie’s knee. 

“But Mikasa-!” I tightly held onto Eren’s shoulders.

“Trust me, she’ll catch up.” Eren assured me. Eren was fast, speeding down the streets into town.  Though I was grateful for help, the last place I expected it being from was the Nerd faction.  Jean told me he returned Eren’s basement key to Armin, but it’s not like we’re on friendly terms...why now?

“Why’d your loyal steed leave you hangin’?” Eren asked me.

“I’m worried something happened to him...” I furrowed my brows, still trying to figure out a lead on where he might be.  “Thanks for the help, Eren, but I should get back to looking for him.”

Eren didn’t stop the bike.  He kept pedaling along the icy streets of Stohess; at the speed he was going, I wouldn’t dream of hopping off.

“Let’s just lay low for a while. If I let you go now, all Mikasa’s work will be for nothing.” he simply said.  While that did make sense, going the extra mile in the first place was a little strange.  He turned a corner, and I mustered up the nerve to ask.

“Why’re you helping me?”

“Armin wants to talk...get all our shit out in the open, y’know?” Eren replied.  I felt a little uncomfortable talking things out with Armin without Jean here, but going with the flow of this strange day seemed to be my only option.  Eren slightly turned his head to look at me.  “Besides, I told you before, I kinda like you.”

We stopped in front of a humble shop. I got off while Eren went to park the bike. I looked up at the building, seeing ‘Arlert’s Comix’ in big wonky letters.

“A comic book store?”

“Our secret base.” Eren nudged me with his elbow.

My eyebrows furrowed. “Secret? Armin’s last name is right on the building.”

“Just get in here.” Eren rolled his eyes, shoving me inside.  I was greeted with the anxious stares of unsuspecting nerds browsing for comics.  Once they saw Eren trail in after me, they seemed to calm down a little.

“Is Armin downstairs?” he asked.  Some didn’t seem to know, others nodded their heads, pointedly glancing to the back corner of the store.  Eren took my arm, leading me through the shop, behind the bookcases until we finally hit a metal door.  He used the key around his neck to open it, revealing a dimly-lit stairway down.  I nervously glanced at him, then back down the stairway.  Eren blinked, signaling me to go ahead.  I breathed out, complying.

The bottom of this basement was well-lit, furnished, and complete with computers, an entertainment system, and a refrigerator. I was pleasantly surprised to see Armin reading his tablet on the couch.  When he noticed Eren and I, he offered a small smile and stood up to greet us.

“Marco! Glad you could make it.”

I didn’t respond, only giving him a befuddled look.  He held his hand out to the spot on the couch next to him, where a playstation controller sat.  “Wanna sit down? Play any games?”

I shook my head, staying put.  “Nah, I’m actually in a hurry.”

“Suit yourself.” Eren shrugged, taking my offered spot on the couch and unpausing the game.  Armin set his tablet on the couch and made his way to the fridge.  “Want a soda or something?”

“I wanna know what this is all about, Armin. ‘Glad I could make it’? Were you expecting me or something?” I demanded to know.  Eren was half-focused on his game, flicking those big green eyes at Armin and I.  Armin shut the fridge door and faced me, cracking open his can of Sprite.

“Say, Marco, what do you think I did to get myself into the Garrison?”

A little thrown off by the question, I thought about it, anyway.  I remember Jean telling me all about the figureheads when I first got here, and that Armin was busted for something a little more “white-collar” than his peers.

“You were going to some super hard college-prep school and got caught cheating?”

“Close,” he held a finger up at me.  He took a sip of soda and continued.  “Someone I cared about was caught cheating, and he threw me under the bus.”

“Yeah, I heard you were after the kid who framed you...you always knew who it was..?” I inquired.

“Of course. Only the people closest to you have the power to truly ruin you.” he said.  I began having completely unrelated thoughts of Jean, and the terrible engagement secret I’m keeping from him.  It may not _ruin_ him, but it will definitely hurt him.  Man, I need to get out of here and find him.  Armin continued talking.  “I actually got my revenge when I dealt with him a couple years back…”

“Then what’s this got to do with--” I shook my head, still confused.

“Does he know it was me, Marco?” Armin asked.

“What?”

“Does Moblit know who got him sent away?” he tilted his head.  “Who framed him for setting the Chemistry lab on fire?”

“Moblit…” my eyes widened.   _That’s_ the kid who ratted Armin out? I was suddenly taken back to my days at the Survey Corps with fellow Psych Ward patient Moblit Berner, and his story of being falsely imprisoned:

_ “Yeah, fine, say what you want, but helping Ms. Hanji in the lab would be the only thing I looked forward to.” _ I remembered him saying.

_ “...I was working on something alone in the lab, and when I made an exciting breakthrough, I went to tell Hanji about it! But by the time I came back, the lab was on fire…” _

“H-He still thinks the Jocks did that…” I said breathlessly.

“Moron...” Armin chuckled, taking another swig of his soda.  It was the first time I’ve ever heard this boy laugh, and it’s so menacing.

“Armin, oh my god!” I exclaimed, completely floored.  Armin blinked those big blue eyes at me, knowing just how extreme this all was, but feigned a look of innocence.  “You...you ruined his life..!”

“Please, I could’ve done worse. I only showed mercy because of how close we were…” he folded his arms, looking a little sad.  He called _that_ mercy? He shook off his pain and continued.  “Because of him, my chances at the Ivy League are shot. Sounds like we’re even to me.”

I shook my head, wondering what else Armin was hiding behind those doe eyes and fragile build.  “Why did you even tell me this..?”

“So you can tell him. I also want you to tell him that I’m prepared for whatever shitty plans of revenge he’s got for me. I want him to think twice before crossing me again.” he replied.

“As if I know where he--” I began to say, but Armin wasn’t having it.

“Don’t bother lying. I already heard from Kenny what great friends you and Moblit are. I won’t be trampled on anymore, not by you, not by anyone!”

“You believe _Kenny_? You realize he’s the one who stole that basement key, don’t you!?” I looked at Eren, trying to plead my case.  There was a knock at the door, and Eren stood up to answer it. However, it already opened, and footsteps came down. My stomach sank, because I'm realizing how much of a big mistake I made letting the Nerds help me. Jean did once tell me that they were sneaky bastards, but why did I have to find out like this?

Mikasa Ackerman appeared in the basement, along with Ymir, Annie, and a few other Burnout footsoldiers. Ymir had a twisted grin on her face, totally excited to get her hands on me.  Annie was staring at me, almost as if she wanted to help, but when I met her gaze, she glanced away.

Eren suddenly tackled me onto the floor, pinning my hands behind my back.

“What the hell, Eren?! I thought you liked me!”

“I did say that,” he sighed, as if he didn't have a choice. “But I also warned you to stay away from Horseface.”

“Lights out, pretty boy.” Ymir smirked, just before yanking a sack over my head. I couldn't see a thing besides the the blurry figures moving about.

“Y’know, Arlert, Annie told me that our union might be a little...problematic, since you're a ‘good person’ and all…” Ymir began again. “But I gotta say, this side of you has a lot of potential.”

So it's true; the Nerds and the Burnouts are working together...strange alliance, but I knew it would mean big trouble down the line.

Someone shoved me along, up the basement stairs and outside.  I felt my body shoved onto leather. Judging from the sounds of a car motor and talk radio, I was thrown into the backseat of a car. 

“Aw jeez, Ymir! I thought you said I wouldn't have to dump no bodies!” A man’s voice complained. I felt my stomach drop.

“Spare me, ‘Renzo, we’re not gonna kill ‘im…” Ymir’s voice went. “Unfortunately.”

“Well what's all this then, huh?” The man grumbled.

“Nothin’ you're not used to. Now hurry up and drive.” Ymir ordered. I just dropped my head onto the seat, no longer resisting. “Take us to the docks.”

“What’re we going there for!?” I demanded to know, desperately trying to follow her voice.

“Pipe down,” she shoved my head back down.  “You’ll find out when we get there.”

From the feel of it, Ymir had Annie and two other goons in the backseat while she was presumably in the front.  I felt two feet rested on my lower half, another set of feet on my back, and another resting on my shoulders.  With the twists and turns and bumps in the road, I was sure I would throw up.  I didn’t want to do such a thing while my head was trapped in this thick casing, though.

“Why isn’t Sasha answering her phone?” Ymir asked.  “Is she gonna meet us there, or not?”

“I saw her with Kirschstein earlier...and I _think_ they were headed there, but…” another voice answered, trailing off with uncertainty.

“Think, huh? You couldn't make sure, Vince?” Ymir growled.

“N-Not without blowing my cover, boss…” 

“Useless...you’re all useless!” Ymir growled.  I didn’t even need to see to realize she was beginning to lose her temper quicker than usual.

After about fifteen minutes, the car stopped, and doors opened. I felt the freezing air hit me and I was yanked out of the car. The smell of seawater made me shiver, because I could only imagine the horrible torture she had in store for me. I gasped as my coat was grabbed, and ripped off.

“H-Hey! What’re you doing?!” I jerked away, only for my shirt to be grabbed next. It was torn with what seemed to be a pocket knife, and the cold shot right through my exposed torso. Snickers and giggling bubbled around me; it seemed like they were crowded all around me.

“Wow, Jean’s a lucky horse, ain't he?” Ymir chuckled dragging her cold fingertips down my chest and stomach. I flinched, stumbling back.  “Aw, sorry, you must be freezing.” 

“Yeah no shit…” I shuddered.

“Tell you what: I'll buy you a nice warm sweater and propose a truce - _if_ you tell me how you and Jean got to Julz.” She proposed.

I paused, my teeth still chattering. I couldn't see a thing, but there was no doubt Annie was still there. Should I expose her and everything else? I couldn't.  There was no way I'd snitch.

“Tie ‘im up.” I heard Ymir say. Footsteps on the boardwalk were all around me, but I had no idea who was doing the tying.  “Where the _fuck_ is Sasha? She's not here.”

“She's not answering her phone.” 

“Hm...” Ymir’s voice heightened. I suddenly felt my ankles bound together by what felt like rope, and my arms were tightly bound behind my back. My throat began to feel dry - both from the freezing cold and my crippling anxiety about this. 

“Where's my first mate, Bodt? Where’d your stallion take her?” Ymir demanded.

“I don't know! I'm trying to find him, too!” I said.  I heard Ymir huff, patience lost at this point.  I couldn’t hear anyone talking or making any decipherable movements, and it was making me more nervous.  I felt something cold - besides the air - on my back.  It felt like hard metal hooking onto my belt.

“H-Hey, what is that?” I wiggled around, hoping to shake it off.  It didn’t budge, if anything, it latched on completely, feeling even colder against my back.

“Go ahead and start it, ‘Renzo.” Ymir called.  After a few moments, there was a loud whirring sound, like a machine starting.  I shrieked once I was being lifted off of the ground.

“Ymir, this isn’t funny! What’re you doing!?” I shuddered, not even feeling my feet on the ground anymore.  I wasn’t sure if I wanted the sack on my head on or off anymore, because I was pretty certain I was suspended in the air, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know where I was being moved to.

“How is it up there, Bodt?” I heard Ymir ask.  She sounded much farther away than before, and I felt as if my stomach was about to drop right out of my ass.  The wind picked up, and for some reason, I shook my head, hoping to shake the sack off.  Before long, the sack over my head fell off, and I realized that I was hanging over the water. I immediately felt sick, and Ymir smirked at my reaction.

“I really hate to do this to you, bud, but you pushed me.” She began.

“This was exactly the reason we kept it from you, FYI.” I told her, trying not to look at the water.  I took a look at my surroundings, and saw that the lift holding me over the water was controlled by a middle-aged man, I presume he’s the one who goes by “Renzo”, the man who drove us here.  Ymir stood at the edge of the docks, watching me with a stone cold glare in her eyes.  Annie was there, too, looking as frigid as ever. She has me to thank for bringing Mina back into her life, right? Isn't that enough for her to do something?

“I'm gonna ask you one more time, bud. Where is Sasha? Who gave you Ilse’s address?” Ymir folded her arms. The first question, I genuinely don't know. The second, however, I had half a mind to rat Annie out, but that goes against my code.  Not answering quickly enough caused Ymir to tune me out.  She turned to Renzo and gave him a nod.  Moments later, there was a jolt, and suddenly I was being lowered down into the water.

“Oh jeez...Y-Ymir, stop! C’mon, guys!” I kicked my legs.  I felt completely hopeless floating there, kicking my legs hopelessly.

“We got trouble, boss!” one of Ymir’s boys scurried toward her at the end of the docks.  The lift was stopped.  She turned to him, wondering what was so urgent.  He yanked on her arm, trying to drag her away.  “Cops! Thomas and his boys have been runnin’ a muck in town and they’re sweeping the town for Garrison kids!” 

“For fuck’s sake…” Ymir growled, signaling the rest of her small group to scatter.  She glared up at me, possibly considering whether or not she would let me down...I hoped she would, but her pettiness got the better of her, and she ran off, leaving Renzo and I there.

“Hey! Hey!” Renzo called.

“I’ll call you later, Renzo, just get outta here!” Ymir called back.  I could hear sirens in the distance, and figured I should make use of the limited time I have before Renzo splits.  He got out of the control chamber of the lift, headed back to the car.

“W-Wait a minute! You can’t leave me up here!” I called.

“Sorry, kid. Nothing personal.” he shrugged.  I breathed heavily, wondering how I’m even able to process thought with how cold I was right now.  Thankfully, I stopped him again before he could get too far away.

“Wh-What is it? Are you in some kinda debt with her family or somethin’?” I stammered, trying to keep my teeth from chattering.  He gave me an incredulous look, then finally scoffed and ignored me.  I continued.  “Just thought I’d ask...since there’s no way she can pay you.”

“What the hell’s that mean?” he turned back to me.   _Man_ , it’s cold out here.  I tried to make myself as small as possible to hold in any warmth as I continued to talk to him.

“You realize she and all her friends have been cut off, don’t you? And I kinda ruined the only financial operation she had, so…” I shivered.  Realizing Ymir was giving him the runaround, he began to get angry.  “I-If you let me down and take me where I need to go, I’ll pay you double what she promised for this job.”

 

In what seemed like no time, this Renzo guy had me back on solid ground and in his car headed to Hitch’s house.  He even had the courtesy to blast the heat for me.  Maybe he does have a history with Ymir’s family, maybe not, all that’s apparent now is that none of that really matters if no one’s paying him.

“Th-Thank you so much, er, Renzo…” I got out of the car, clutching my coat for warmth.

He waved me away.  “It’s Lorenzo, and unless you want _me_ on your list of problems, you better meet me outside the gate of your school this Saturday at midnight. I want a grand in cash, alright?”

_‘Alright, noted.’_ I sighed, watching him speed off.  Without further delay, I rushed to the door, knocking as fast and hard as I could to escape the cold.  To my surprise, it wasn’t Hitch’s butler Corgan answering the door, but Historia Reiss.

“Marco?” her eyes widened.  “Oh my god...what happened to you..?”

I pushed past her, rushing into the warmth of the house, headed straight upstairs to get a warm shirt on.  She followed me to the guest room, beyond confused.  Once I changed clothes and sat right in front of the heating vent, I explained everything.

Historia’s face throughout my story got progressively worse.  She must have been extremely worried about Ymir and how erratic she’s becoming...not to mention the state of everything else that’s gone on because of Jean and I.  It wasn’t until I made a crazy suggestion that she said something about it, however.

“You should talk to her.” I said.

“I can’t! As far as she’s concerned, I’m _worlds_ away!” she protested.  “I have to stay as far away from Ymir as possible...I can’t drag her into anything…”

“She’s part of the mob and you’re worried about bringing trouble into _her_ life?” I asked.

“Old Money, the Mob, there's hardly a difference, right?” She scoffed, looking absolutely hopeless. “If I don't distance myself from Ymir, there's no telling what damage my family will do to hers…”

I furrowed my eyebrows, realizing my situation wasn’t too far off.  It’s just funny that Historia is certain that there was no recovering from what her family would put Ymir through, and it was better for her to just leave...

“I’m certain Ymir’s family will take her back in...I can’t say the same for me if I don’t do as they say.” she continued.

I averted my eyes, wondering if my parents would go as far as to cut me off if I refused to marry Mina...especially now that they have a legitimate child on the way.  Historia and I were in no way close friends, but I couldn’t help but confess that I truly understood how she felt.

“I wish I knew what to tell you...but I don’t even know what to do.” I shook my head, feeling knots in my stomach.  She just stood there, a befuddled expression on her face.  “All I can tell you is that she’s a mess without you...and talking to her won’t hurt.”

“Marco...you too..?” she looked at me with those big blue eyes.  I honestly didn’t want to get into it, not with the day I’ve had.  Thankfully, there was buzzing in my pocket to distract me from the conversation.  I pulled out Jean’s phone, and saw that Thomas was calling.  My gut told me to answer it, and when I did, I was extremely relieved.

“Marco?”

“Jean!”

Ymir and her group fled because of some commotion Thomas and his boys caused in town...but since Jean is with him now, could this have all been some kind of diversion? Whatever the case, I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Where the hell are you?” he asked.  Something in the tone of his voice didn’t sit right with me.

“I could ask you the same. I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you!” I sighed, just relieved he’s alright.  “I’m laying low at Hitch’s place…”

“Cool, I’ll be there soon. I gotta talk to you.” he said, instilling a world of fear in my heart.  Talk to me? About what? Does he know..? I glanced at Historia, who was eagerly listening in on our conversation.  I turned back to the heating vent, placing my already sweaty palms near.

“Where’ve you been all day..?”

“Just wait. There’s a lot to talk about.” he simply said.  My eyes darted across the room, a little anxious that I couldn’t pick up on anything in his voice.  What was his state of mind right now? What was keeping me from picking up on it? In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I uttered something more before he hung up.

“I love y--”

_ Click! _

He didn’t hear me...or he didn’t want to..? I let the phone fall down on my lap, staring into space.  Historia - who heard everything - just came closer, sitting on the chair nearby.  “You need to tell him…”

“As soon as you tell Ymir.” I shot back.  She just breathed out, unfazed.  I palmed my face.  “Who’m I kidding? Ymir would understand you. She’d take you back...Jean’s different…”

Historia folded her arms.  “What’s different? Jean loves you--”

“That’s exactly why he wouldn’t…” I cut her off. Sure, Ymir and Jean had a lot in common personality-wise, but I knew Jean well enough to know that he wouldn't take this well. All he asks of me is the truth - that I wouldn't keep anything from him...but how can we possibly get past this..?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo!   
> So I'm forced to take a sick day from work, and I figure I should work on my JeanMarco hobby a little. So sorry it took so long (took fuckin months I know I'm awful!!). But yeah, what'd you guys think? Not sure if you guys read chapter 77 of snk, but now that we know HOW Marco died, I thought...I should care for my grieving heart and post D:  
> But anyway, before I burst into tears, I'm super excited to show you all the next installment! The SAME day, except from Jean's POV. More to come soon! Thanks for stopping by again! :)))


	26. Bun in the Oven?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 2!  
> If you're pro-life, sorry (not really).

Jean

 

I woke up before Marco as usual, and left the bed as quietly as I could and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and freshen up. The sun wasn't even completely up yet, but I couldn't go back to sleep. Breakfast was starting up in a couple minutes and I figured I would get something to eat and start my day. When I finished, I crawled on top of the lump under the blankets that was my lazy freckled angel.

“Hey, lazybones,” I peeled the blankets back to look at his sleepy face.

“Jean, what’re you doing? It's Saturday…” He grumbled, tugging the blankets back over his face. I couldn't help but smile to myself at how grouchy he is.

“Yeah, but I'm going to Hanji’s extra credit class. You should get some extra work since we missed those last couple days.” I put my nose against his face. He shivered from the cold and grumbled, trying to escape my bugging him. “Or you could ask nicely and I'll get it for you.”

He finally pulled the blanket off, giving me a threatening glare. I immediately backed away, holding both hands up. “Alright, I'll get it for you.”

He gave me the sweetest smile, slowly closing his eyes. “Thanks, I love you.”

I frowned as he drifted right back to sleep. Once I shut the door, I smirked to myself, thinking this _must_ be what love is; considering I wouldn't take that from anyone else.

I still had some time before I had to be in the make up class, so I headed to breakfast. I moved through the line, sweet-talked the lunch ladies into giving me the least gross food, and went to find a seat.

I sat at the table, picking at my breakfast and brushing up on some notes before class today. Just then, someone plopped their tray right in front of me. I looked up, seeing Kenny Ackerman sit down in front of me, that smug smirk on his face. I shouldn't be surprised; of course he would show his face now that I'm by myself.

“Jean-y boy! How’ve you been?”

I glanced up at him, then closed my book and stood up to leave. He stood up as well.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, kiddo, it's been awhile since we last saw each other, y'know?”

“I'd like to keep the streak going.” I scoffed.

“Oh cmon, you guys can't tell me you aren't the _least_ bit interested in how I've been doing.” He tilted his head. 

“Sure, indulge me on how you plan to ruin Marco and I this time.” I sat back down, glaring at him.

“You two are doing a fine job of that yourselves: taking jabs at Ymir and trying to set up the Jocks? Pretty brave…” He gave a dramatic slow clap. I locked eyes with him, wondering what the hell he was on about.

“I ain't tryna set anyone up…” 

“Please, don't let hanging out with the rest of these idiots make you think I'm one of them.” He scoffed. “I know your freckled sweetheart’s ex beau showed up here and you're feeling threatened. Kinda shocking to think you'd abuse your power to try and ruin the life of some innocent muscle head. It's a kinda tyrannical of you, to be honest. I'm a little proud...”

“Fuck off, Kenny. I'm _protecting_ Marco.” I said matter-of-factly, cutting my eyes away from him and back at my book.

He smirked, giving me a look that didn't believe me in the slightest. “Whatever you say. I suggest you watch your back; that kid Sam really wants his boy back, and I don’t think he’ll give up so easy...especially to you.”

I followed his pointed glances to the table where the Jocks sat. Tall, muscular and handsome Samuel Linke-Jackson sat - questionably close - beside Reiner, staring me down. I cut my eyes away from him and looked back at Kenny.

“That s’posed to scare me or somethin’?

“Why wouldn't it? His very presence is your way of finding out just how much you really know your Freckled Angel...which probably ain't a lot.” Kenny tilted his head.

“You talk as if you know somethin’ about him that I don't.” I sneered at him. He simply shrugged with that sly smirk of his.

“Maybe I don't, but Sam _definitely_ does. I wouldn't underestimate the word of a first love...” 

I rolled my eyes, trying to get back to my notes. It seemed that Kenny wasn't finished tormenting me yet. He slowly slid his phone across my book, and I nearly shat a brick.  “But that's the thing about secrets, Jean-y...they don't really matter unless they're out in the open.”

It was an article from the local press reported today. _“Private school? Or Private Harem? Trusted Principal Erwin Smith’s secret underage love affair.”_

“What the fuck…” I shuddered, staring at myself in the photo getting into Mr. Smith’s car. Kenny watched me with that twisted grin, letting me scroll through the article and finding more of the pictures he took; one of me getting out of the car with Mr. Smith, and entering the bar with him.

“Crazy how much reporters will trust anonymous sources for a scoop like this.” He chuckled.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! There's no _way_ people won't recognize me here!” I exploded. Unfazed, Kenny rolled his eyes and gave me a look.

“Just how famous d’you think you are, Kirschstein?”

On one hand, sure, I'm not constantly being followed around by paparazzi...On the other, how dare he? I'm pretty well-known for the son of a lucky entrepreneur.

“Still, this is overkill! You're really gonna screw me like this? Over some stupid revenge scheme?!” I exclaimed.

“Pipe down, Kirschstein! Inside voices!” TA Auruo barked.  I turned my head, seeing him stomp his way over to our table.  “What’s your problem?”

I glanced at Kenny, and he sat there, hands folded behind his head.  He knew I’d never snitch, even though he told on Marco and I for sneaking into his room that one night...but this was a little different. This was one of the only times of my life I wished I was grimy enough to rat someone out.

“Forget it, I gotta go.” I gathered my things.

“Where’re you off to, boy?” TA Auruo demanded, grabbing my shoulder.

“What’s it to you!?” I shoved his hand off of me.

“Don’t test me, kid. We’ve been ordered to keep a closer watch on you brats. Curfew’s being pushed to 6PM.” he warned.  I furrowed my eyebrows, about to protest, but I glanced at Kenny, whose grin grew larger.  This town was going to be swarming with paparazzi within the coming week - maybe even sooner.  The Garrison is finished.  While that was enough to celebrate, there were a lot of consequences to come with...one of them being Kenny Ackerman coming for our heads.

“I gotta go…” I muttered, walking away.  I was way too heated to head there now, I only said so to get TA Auruo off my back.

I sought refuge in the art room, knowing it was abandoned since Mike left. I reached in my pocket for my phone, hoping to call Marco over, but I cursed to myself realizing I didn't have it.

_‘Shit, I must've left it in the room…’_ I sighed, plopping down in an empty desk, burying my head in my hands. As I steadied my breathing trying to calm down, I heard someone else in the room. It was sniffling I heard to be specific. I stood up from the desk, and that had apparently rattled the other person. They scrambled out from under Mike’s desk; and to my surprise, it was Sasha Braus. Before I could even put up my guard, she tackled me onto the floor, cocked her fist back to hit me. 

“Wait a minute..!” I gritted my teeth, turning my head and flinching to take the blow.

“You...you..!” Her fist shook, and it felt as if her whole body was shaking. When I felt something drip onto my face, I opened my eyes and clearly saw her tear-streaked face.

“Sasha…” My eyes widened. She sniffles, getting off of me and cautiously stepped back.

“J-Just go...I was supposed to wait for you outside and drag you back to Ymir but...I’ll just tell her I didn't see you…” she shook her head, hiding her face.

“What's with you?” I stood up, getting closer.

“Piss off!” She punched me square in the chest. I stumbled back, clutching my chest, immediately thinking to just leave her alone, but she took a few woozy steps back and suddenly threw up right in the trash can. My mouth fell open from concern. 

“Sasha...c’mon, I'll take you to the nurse.” I put my hand on her shoulder. She swatted my hand away.

“No! I'm fine, it's just..a little morning sickness…” 

My eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“I-I mean..! What I meant was..!” She stammered, giving me the most obvious look a person trying to keep a secret could. I'd already figured it out.

“Sasha...don't tell me that you're…”

Her face twisted into an agonizing frown as tears fell from her big brown eyes. “Fuck..! Can't keep my legs shut, can't keep my mouth shut, either!”

She crawled under Mike’s desk and buried her face in her hands. I felt a little awkward, because this /really wasn't my problem, but something in me stayed put. Must've been Marco’s gross empathy rubbing off on me.

“Don't be like that…” I said softly, crawling under the desk with her. She responded to my gentle tone and looked at me. “When’d you find out?”

She sniffled, crouching down in front of her.

“Last night.” She sniffled. “I'd been sick like this for a while now...and when my period didn't come I got scared, so…”

“Are you really sure?” I asked.

“I took a test!” She replied, slapping her hands on her tear-streaked face.

“Alright, alright…” I nodded, not wanting to rile her up.

“You must be ecstatic, huh?” She sniffled. I arched my eyebrow at her, not following. “You'll definitely use this against me, won't you?”

“I'm not gonna do that. No matter what you guys do to me.” I told her. “Not that it really matters, but what'd Connie say about all this?”

“What d’you mean it doesn't matter? It's his..!” She whisper-shouted, more tears flaring up at the thought.

“Look, forget Connie for a sec. D'you wanna keep it or what?” I asked plainly. She looked completely and utterly lost. It was a loaded question, but it needed to be answered. 

“You're not suggesting that I…” she began, a look of fear struck her face.

“I'm not suggesting anything. Just sayin’, if you go through with it, that's an eighteen to twenty-one year sentence of unpredictable shit. Your family cut you off, so you're pretty much on your own.”

“But Connie--”

“Who gives a shit about Connie?! He can bail on you whenever he wants! The pressure’s mostly on you!” I poked my finger against her. “Your body your rules, right?”

She wiped away more of her tears, shaking her head. “I don't want it…”

“You…” I began, unsure if i should push her into a decision so quickly. I wanted her to come to a conclusion herself, so instead, I just put my hand on her shoulder.

“I don't want it…” She softly repeated herself. “I won't be a good mom...I'm not even passing all my classes!”

“Tell me what you want, Sasha.” I looked her in her big brown eyes. She stared at me for a second, studying my face and trying to detect any hint of insincerity. Surprisingly not crying anymore, she just shook her head, stumped.

“Why are you being so nice to me..?”

I blinked, wondering how to even answer what came so naturally. “Why the hell not?”

“Because you and Ymir are feuding.” She said, as if it were obvious. I rolled my eyes at the mention of this completely out of hand clique situation. 

“Look, It wouldn't feel right leavin’ you like this...I don't mind helping you, especially after all the free weed you gave me, y’know?”

Of course, the weed was to keep me quiet - hush drugs, if you will...but she cracked a smile anyway.

* * *

 

Sasha trusted me enough to escort her into town - to the clinic in Stohess. I was honestly nervous, too, and this had nothing to do with me. I just thought this was crazy...Sasha and I together, I mean. Hell, I even agreed to pay for the procedure.  Most places require parental consent for these kinds of things, or at least a judicial bypass, but fortunately for Sasha, Stohess wasn’t one of them.  While I was extremely nervous, something inside me felt good.  Sasha visibly looked calmer, and although we were sworn enemies at the moment, I was glad to help her.

We snuck through the city in our bulky coats; she let her hair down and put a beanie over her head, along with her hood to cover her face.  I did the same, and we stuck close to eachother as we navigated through town.  She nervously linked her arm with mine; it was a little awkward, but I let her do whatever she had to in order to keep calm.

“I guess...I guess I should...thank you..?” she looked up at me with those big brown eyes.

“Don’t. It feels weird.” I shuddered, glancing off.

“Y’know, you and your brother are polar opposites, but you’re not all that different.” she giggled.

“That teddy bear? No way.” I scoffed.  I was a little surprised Sasha caught that I was joking and laughed again.

“I’m serious. Julien had it bad for Annie, but he always helped me out when I needed it, too. Here you are, doing the same.”

I smirked, wondering how Julz is doing now.  I wish I had my phone with me so I can see if he or Pixis contacted me at all...but I suppose I’d have to check on him later on.

“You're not hitting on me, are you?” She elbowed me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“I have a boyfriend?” I snorted, giving her an incredulous look.

She giggled, averting her eyes. “I mean, this is how Connie and I got so close, y’know.”

“Uh, I really don't wanna hear--” I held my hand up, but she went on.

“Not sure if you remember, but Reiner and Ymir were feuding way back when Connie was new. When we first saw eachother, something just clicked...for some reason, we just couldn't hurt each other.”

Since she started, there was no use stopping her. I just sat back, listening to her drone on about her beloved track star.  In my opinion, they were both idiots, but Sasha deserved better.  “It used to be so innocent...he used to buy me all kinds of food and...I used to watch all his meets...how did it get this way..?”

“Started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this..?” I mindlessly bobbed my head, reminded of that song from The Killers. Sasha, however, didn't seem to get the reference.

“That's literally it!” She clapped me on the arm. “Jeez, you're so understanding. Under different circumstances, we’d totally be friends.”

“Different circumstances, huh?” I huffed. “You ain’t so bad, Braus. Why can’t we be friends?”

“You know why.” she mumbled.  I rolled my eyes, about to retort, but she held my arm tighter.  “I just can’t betray Ymir. She’s done so much for me when my family abandoned me.”

“What d’you tell yourself when you’re with Connie? Does he say the same about Reiner? Not that I can imagine that blonde dickhead doing anything useful for _anyone_.” I nudged her.

“People and relationships ain’t so black and white, y’know. There’re just some things we can’t always be honest about.” She told me. I pondered on her words for a moment, wondering if that was just common knowledge, or something everyone eventually finds out. Maybe not the latter; Marco and I are honest with eachother about pretty much everything.

“Here we are…” She gulped, stopping in front of the humble building. I thought there’d be ignorant protestors outside, but it was pretty clear.

“It's your call, Sasha, do what’s right for you.” I assured her. It's not like _my_ support is what she really needs, but she needed _someone’s_. After a short pause, she gave a slight nod and continued inside.

Inside sat pairs of mothers and daughters, and couples of all varieties. Sasha removed her sunglasses and went to talk to the receptionist at the window. I took a seat next to another young woman holding a fussing baby; although we tried keeping a low profile, practically everyone in the waiting room was staring at us. I grumbled to myself, placing my palm over my face and sinking into the chair, embarrassed that I actually thought we would go unnoticed.

I wonder, was it my designer coat? Sasha’s $350 boots? My exclusive hat? Possibly all of those things gave us away.

“I paid a little more to jump up on the waiting list…” She whispered once she took a seat next to me. I glanced at the people here, who must've been waiting for hours now, only to keep waiting since a rich girl didn't want to wait. While I do appreciate my wealth, I feel bad sometimes. She took my silence as fear of being caught and sat back.

“Don't worry, we’ll be in and out before anyone recognizes us...I doubt anyone would…”

Who's she trying to convince?

To make matters worse, the widescreen television in the waiting room featured an episode of Star Chef, and of all the special guests to be featured on the show…

“...And that's our show for tonight. I'd like to give a warm welcome to our special guest, Ramona Braus!”

A tall woman with long red-brown hair tied in a ponytail waved to the camera with a lightening-white smile. A caption appeared at the bottom of the screen showing her credentials: Ramona Braus, world-renowned chef, TV host of her own show, featured on Sina Television Network daily from noon to three. It was obviously Sasha’s mom. She sank down into her chair, burying her face in her coat.

“She's gonna disown me if she finds out about this…” She whimpered. I wanted to say something comforting, but nothing came to mind. What could I say? This was considered an extreme embarrassment, and I wouldn't be surprised if that happened...especially if it became public. Sasha sniffled, trying not to be heard. “My parents hate me...I can't cook...I can't do anything of use to them or my name…”

I couldn't rebuff her statement about her parents hating her, because there are times when I feel like that, too...but I tried something different.

“You've...got a bit of a green thumb, though, right..?”

“Huh?” She wiped her eyes.

“The reason you're here is ‘cause you grew pot in your backyard, right? I dunno, I think that's pretty badass.” I shrugged. “I mean, who cares if you can't do what your parents do? You think I wanna manage a chain of high-end Casinos all my life? I don't even wanna manage these stupid ass cliques…”

She chuckled, feeling better than a few minutes ago. “But you're good at it.”

“I guess, but…doesn't mean I wanna do it...and I won't.” I pouted, folding my arms. My parents have already dropped Julien and are looking into business management programs for me. _I’m_ the legacy to Trost’s Cash Fountain now, but I'd much rather chew glass. I want to do something - anything art related, but that's never taken seriously, even by normal families. I shook my head, turning back to Sasha. “Listen, my point is...just do what you want. Your folks ain't gonna be around forever.”

Easier said than done, I know. I knew she was afraid; hell, who isn't?

It wasn't long before the door opened and a nurse peeked her head through, calling Sasha’s name. All eyes followed Sasha as she quickly walked through the door. Once she was out of sight, everyone in the waiting room as well as the nurse behind the door looked at me, as if I should go with her. As far as appearances go, I probably should, but this was probably the strangest predicament I've been in, and I didn't want to make it weirder.

 

Sasha was much louder coming out than she was going in. I couldn't help but glance over at the door once she burst through, grinning wide for everyone to see.

“Thank you!” She called, waving to the nurse who escorted her out. I cautiously stood to my feet, and before I could say anything, she yanked me by the coat sleeve and dragged me outside.

“So like...are you um…alright..?” I cleared my throat, gracelessly glancing at her stomach. She furrowed her brows, pondering on my words for a moment before shaking her head and laughing.

“No, stupid, I'm not pregnant! I thought I was, but it turned out to be false!”

“Huh?” I tilted my head. I glanced around at the bystanders who heard her loud outburst. She lunged into my arms, swaying me side to side and giving another joyous laugh before explaining. Turns out this was a case of Pseudocyesis, simply where the body is tricked and carries out all normal functions associated with pregnancy...without actually being pregnant.

“So it was pretty much all in my head!” She sighed, unable to get the relieved grin off her face.  I'm sure it was much more complicated than that, but as long as she was okay for the most part, I wasn't concerned. 

We spent so much time on our “disguises”, the trip here, and the evaluation, I didn't realize how late it's gotten.

“What's with the face? Thought you'd be happy to hear you're not actually knocked up.” I broke the silence. She glanced at me, coming out of her thoughts and cracked a smile.

“I am, I'm just thinkin’...I really dodged a bullet, y’know?”

“Yeah. Tell Springer to wrap it up next time.” I told her.

“Hm...I don't think I'll be seeing too much more of him anymore.” She muttered. I arched an eyebrow, curious of what she meant by that. “I should stop messin’ around. I gotta get serious now that I'm cut off, y’know? I got myself into some deep shit and Connie wasn't even the one who helped me.”

_‘Well...you didn't tell ‘im…’_ I said to myself, growing a little nervous about what she was saying. 

“I think we should break up. Doin’ what I've been doin’ behind Ymir’s back was playin’ with fire, I oughta just quit and be loyal to her.”

I was a little surprised at her deciding to dump Connie, but I wanted to focus on the last thing she said. “So I guess that means you're gonna come at me full force after today, huh?”

“Originally, when you caught me earlier, I was supposed to lead you to Ymir…but all things considered, I'll try to be less and less involved as possible.”

“Much appreciated.” I dead panned. She shrugged with a sheepish smirk, apologetic about her loyalties, but grateful for the help.

“I really appreciate what you did for me, Jean...you really are a decent guy...” She held my shoulders. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”

She scurried away, leaving me standing in the middle of the empty street. She seemed to disappear into the crowd of people littering the next block.

I trudged on to a nearby bus stop, dusting the snow off of it before sitting down. I was so into my thoughts the ice cold metal didn't really phase me. I honestly helped Sasha today out of the goodness of my heart, a feeling I'm still trying to hone myself into using for the right times. I wasn't expecting her to help me in turn, but i definitely wasn't expecting her to completely devote herself to the faction leader trying to ruin me, either.

I sighed, feeling completely defeated. No matter what I do for my enemies - whether it's helping them or hurting them - the outcome never really works out in my favor. The factions, the Garrison, it's just bigger than me and anything I think I can do.   She thanked me and left...I guess the _least_ she can do is leave me alone for the rest of today, since apparently she was supposed to lead me into a trap…

Trap..! Marco!

I stood to my feet, headed back in the direction of the dorms. Unfortunately for me, sightings of local police stopped me from making any sudden movements. There was usually maybe two cops every few blocks, but the town was practically swarming with patrols.

_“Curfew’s being pushed to 6PM.”_ TA Auruo’s voice rattled in my head. I didn't even have to ask what time it was, the sky was already darkening. I slid between some buildings, hoping to take cover and observe whatever is going on. My eyes widened, seeing Thomas and Dazz zoom past on their bikes. Amazingly enough, the cops haven't caught onto them just yet.

I simply followed the direction they went in, i mean it'd be stupid to call their names when we're all trying to keep a low profile. They were headed right for that comic book store Armin’s family owns.

I kept my head low, watching as they hopped off of their bikes and went to storm the place. My eyes widened as Mikasa Ackerman stepped out with a bunch of goons from Ymir’s faction! This was nothing good, and instead of just high-tailing it the hell out of there, I felt the need to help them. I swear, Marco’s been rubbing off on me in the most inconvenient way…Thankfully, I had snapper in my backpack. 

“We’ve put up with your bullying for far too long, Wagner. It's time for a taste of your own medicine.” Mikasa folded her arms.

“How many times do I gotta tell people? I don't do that no more! We talk about our issues first, _then_ I beat you up!” Thomas replied. I sighed, figuring I ought to give him credit for trying. He inches closer to Mikasa, only for her to step back. “Believe it or not, I ain't tryna fight. We got shit in common now, right?”

“Excuse me?” The girl sneered at the thought.

“Don't tell me you nerds _never_ caught on to Franz and Hannah bein’ an item. You _had_ to have known that, right?” Thomas almost laughed. Oh, so that's what this is about. Mikasa didn't find it so funny, and to make matters worse, Eren comes outside with Franz and Hannah, acting just as furious as Mikasa looked.

“Like you barbarians are so smart...don't get cocky!” 

“Sure, we ain't that smart...but we ain't blind, either!” Dazz chuckled smugly, further infuriating Eren.

“Was this you guys’ little plan? To tear us apart from the inside!?” Eren demanded to know.  I scoffed; Eren was giving Thomas /way too much credit.

“Oh c’mon, Jaeger, our groups are kinda like in-laws now, don’tcha think?” Thomas tried to reason with him, but the fact that he still found all this funny irritated Eren.

“Try to understand, Eren…” Hannah began.  Eren glared at her with those intense emerald eyes of his.

“You’ve done enough! Stay out of it!”

“Hey! Watch how you talk to her!” Franz shoved Eren.

“Do _not_ touch Eren!” Mikasa pushed Franz.

This senseless quarrel only caused the rest of who was there to start fighting the opposing group.  I rolled my eyes, thinking maybe now I should intervene, but I heard police sirens echo down the streets, and they were only coming closer.

“Cops!” someone shouted, causing the entire group to scatter.

I didn’t want to follow the crowd, I figured the cops would be drawn to the large group.  I darted through a couple alleyways, hoping that no patrols on foot would catch me.  I was found, however, by a familiar black car cruising down the main road.

“Hurry, get in!”

It was Marco in one of Hitch’s family cars.  I did as he said, not even bothering to ask why he wasn’t waiting at her house like I told him to.  Historia Reiss was in the passenger’s seat while Corgan drove.

“I’m not paid nearly enough for this…” Corgan grumbled, taking a backroad.

“If Hitch’s family fires you for this, you can always work for any of our families, Mr. Corgan.” Historia assured him.

“Very comforting, Miss Reiss.” he said sarcastically.

I looked over at Marco, seeing that he was still shaken up about - well, this entire day.  I placed my hand over his on his lap, hoping to calm him down a little.  He pulled me in by the back of my neck, just holding me in his arms.  I glanced back at Historia and Corgan, a little embarrassed at the sudden display of affection.  Historia didn’t even try to hide her disapproving look.  I furrowed my brows in confusion; why was she looking at us like this? Did Marco convince her to come back to school with us? There was so much I wasn’t sure about, all I did was hold Marco back.

“Erm...shall I put up the partition?” Corgan cleared his throat.

“N-No, sorry.” Marco let go of me, staring down at the car floor.

“We can take it from here, Corgan.” Historia said, prompting him to stop the car.  We were a good walking distance from the school.  We all thanked the man before hopping out of the car and hurrying toward the school.  Historia finally gave into my staring and spoke.

“I’ve decided to talk to Ymir...I suppose the damage she causes would partially be my fault…”

While it was great to have Historia back and on our side, we had to actually enter the Garrison before anything else.

“Shit, they closed the gates..!” Marco pointed out.

“C’mon, i know another way in.” I yanked his arm. He gave me a befuddled look, but followed me anyway. There was a hidden pathway behind the school that would lead us right to the baseball field. I was so focused on getting back inside and working out some kind of game plan, I didn't count on any others finding our path. Marco, Historia and I approached the fence we had to climb to get into Garrison territory; however, we came to a halt once we caught a glimpse of Jocks hopping the fence.

“Well well...look what we got here.” A voice called. Of all people, it was Samuel-Linke Jackson, and as expected, Marco shrunk.

“C’mon, Sam!” A baseball player called.

“Go on ahead,” he held a hand up. He turned and settled on the top of the fence, blocking our way.

“You should listen to your lackey, pretty boy. Fuck off already, we’ll deal with whatever you gotta say on the other side.” I said. He shot me a glare, wanting to say something, but shifted his gaze to Marco trying to disappear behind me.

“I can't believe you tried to hide this, Marco. Don't you remember our fathers are still very good friends?” Sam began. “Everyone in our circle knows the great news!”

Marco immediately perked up, becoming more aggressive. “Don't you _dare_ , Sam…”

Obviously, there's a secret Marco is keeping from me. By the paleness of his face, he knew that I knew it.

“Oh, don't tell me...don't tell me you kept the news from your new man!” Sam almost laughed. “Don't you know, Kirschstein?”

“SHUT UP!” Marco exploded. Even Historia seemed to be more in the loop than I. I locked eyes with the tall, tanned baseball player, perched atop the fence with a sick grin on his face.  He must've been waiting to drop this bomb since I saw him at the breakfast table this morning.

“Marco’s been betrothed! Mina’s so beautiful, you're a lucky guy!”

My eyes widened, flashing back to thanksgiving break and Marco’s “surprise guests”. Why didn't I piece it together before? Why didn't I catch on to Marco’s strange behavior since coming /back from Jinae? Why didn't I catch on to how much he sympathized with Historia’s arrangement? All of Hitch's fucking 'hypothetical questions' should've definitely rung a bell or two.

At that moment, I didn't even think to hide my emotions from him. He was watching me take this all in, completely mortified.

“You son of a bitch!” Marco yanked the slingshot from me and pelted Sam right in the face. It all happened so fast, I couldn't even stop him. Sam dropped a good six feet off the fence, crashing to the ground with a loud thud.

“Marco…” I looked over at him, still frozen from before.

“Jean, I'm so sorry…I meant to tell you myself, I swear I did, but...” He approached me. I heard more footsteps approaching from the other side of the fence. My immediate thought was to protect.

“Give me that.” I grabbed Snapper out of his hand.  Coach Shadis and all of the TAs appeared, opening the locked gate. 

“What the hell happened here?!” He rushed to pick up Sam from off the ground. He looked up, seeing the slingshot in my hand and immediately sent the TAs after me.

“You think this is funny, Kirschstein?! If he's blinded, it'll be your ass!” Coach screamed.

“Drop it, Jean!” TA Gunther ordered. I obeyed, slowly holding my hands out and letting them know I meant no harm. I watched Marco, knowing he desperately wanted to confess, but I had to protect him.

“Both of you, get inside!” Coach shouted at Historia and Marco.

“Get down.” TA Gunther shoved me onto the cold ground, yanking my hands behind my back, cuffing me. 

“Jean..!” Marco paused in walking.

“This ain't about you, boy. Keep walking!” TA Auruo shoved him along.

When we arrived on Garrison property, Historia and Marco were led into Mr. Smith’s office, possibly to discuss Marco’s detention and Historia’s mysterious return...but I was led straight into solitary.

Who the fuck knows how Sam is gonna turn out? Marco probably _did_ blind the bastard. I don't care. I just knew if Marco was caught, he would really be kicked out of school, and there wouldn't be anything I could blackmail anyone into doing about it this time. 

“Get comfortable. You're not seeing any daylight until we close for Christmas break.”

That's a whole two weeks. God, I hated solitary. I absolutely hated this hole of white noise. Although, it was to protect who I loved. I knew this was my last strike, and I felt I used it well.

The more I thought about it, I actually wasn't that angry. Marco may have lied to me - for _weeks_ \- about Mina, but I understood why. I don't know what he was planning to do to alleviate the pain this would inevitably cause us, or if he had a plan at all...but how I felt would be the same, and I think he knew.

I love that boy, but no matter how I slice it, all signs are pointing to letting him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After almost an entire semester, I'm still writing. This shit's still fun! I also really want to finish this :]  
> The jig is up, the secret's out! Jeez, thanks a lot, Sam. You'll find out how things turn out for our favorite couple next time, I'll give myself about...another couple weeks..! Haha..! Love you guys, thanks for sticking around!  
> Please, rip me to shreds in the comments!

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this. I haven't written fanfiction since high school and I can feel how rusty I am; but please, stick around! I'm planning on updating a chapter each week (save for this time, since I just recently opened this account)!


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